You Told Him I Was Gay?
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: Jane demands that Maura tell her exactly why Jorge "assumed" she was gay. Set during and after episode 1.06, "I Kissed A Girl," co-authored by Googlemouth. Originally published on 3/11/2011
1. Chapter 1

**Set during and after episode 1.06, "I Kissed A Girl."**

**Googlemouth has decided to completely retire. As such, she's taking down her FFN account soon, and she's allowed me the chance to repost what we worked on together.**

**Characters aren't ours. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, Turner Broadcasting, Warner Brothers, and other assorted important people. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.**

**This story was co-written with Googlemouth. **

**Note: A substantial portion of this chapter is an exact scene from the show. You all know the words, you all know what you saw; this excerpt will simply be my description of those things. Don't skip it – I make subtext into maintext. You know you wanna read that.**

* * *

Yoga class was going to be tense, Jane knew. Maura and Brock had enjoyed their date, then parted company after dinner with no one in the dark about where it was (not) going to go from there. She, on the other hand, had been at her wits' end for a little too long regarding Jorge. "I'm not kidding, Maura, you better tell him something to get him off my back once and for all," warned the detective as she wrestled with her leggings and sports bra. "He may be cute, but I'm not trying to be with any man who's got so little testosterone in his system. You know that lunch he brought me? It was a sandwich cut in a heart shape. I haven't liked heart shapes since I was in third grade, Maura." She was getting all worked up, could feel it happening, had a choice to quit now and relax, but instead plowed forward. "He replaced my car battery, which by the way was perfectly okay. He put a bow in Jo Friday's hair. My _dog_ has a _bow_ in her _hair_. Jorge may be cute, but he doesn't want to be a husband, or a boyfriend, or even a booty call. He wants to be a wife, and if I wanted that –"

"I know," replied Maura serenely, already in her workout togs, as she brushed her caramel curls into a ponytail. "If you wanted a wife, you'd be gay. All right, look, I'll go and speak to him right now if you like. It'll all be over by the time you get to class, if you just give me a couple of minutes."

Jane huffed in frustrated dignity. "Well, you better fix this and fix it good. You started this, so you get to end it."

Maura's head tilted as she reminded Jane, "Fix it _well_. The word good is an adjective, but that sentence requires an adverb." She smiled, waiting for Jane to take the correction, but received only a scowl for her helpfulness. Her hands flew up as if fending off blows, conceding defeat. "All right, okay, I'm going. Give me three to five minutes, and then come to class."

As class began, Jane entered the yoga studio and started to stretch out. Almost everyone else was already warmed up and ready, including Maura, who looked fairly pleased with herself, and Jorge, who stood in his usual spot in the row ahead of Maura's and Jane's row. He seemed relaxed, not especially happy or upset. Just as Jane was wondering whether Maura had kept her word – which was absurd, because not keeping one's word was the same as lying, which Maura couldn't do, but Jane had to consider all the possibilities – Jorge bent to stretch out his hamstrings, and that was when he spotted her. He abandoned his warmup for a moment to come stand by her, voice lowered discreetly.

"Hey."

With an enthusiasm entirely unsupported by actual feeling, Jane responded with a smile, "Hey!"

Jorge looked hesitant for a moment, but cleared his throat and forged on. "Look, I-I just want to tell you I support your choice, Jane."

Not much information there, but it was all Jane had to work with, so she ran with it. "Okay. Thank you. And thank you for the flowers and the chocolates. And the lunch. And the car battery, even though mine was fine." There she stopped; there was no way Jane was going to thank anyone for putting a bow in her dog's hair.

"Sure. You're welcome," Jorge said with a smile that contained a little too much compassion for Jane's liking. For some reason, it had just gotten awkward. Well, more awkward. His next words clarified the matter considerably, but they didn't make Jane feel any better. "Glad we live in a state that women like you can get married if that's what you want."

She was going to kill Maura. Kill her, destroy or contaminate the evidence as only a homicide detective could do. Even if they discovered her, no jury in the country would convict her. Justifiable homicide, it would be called. "Okay," Jane told Jorge, smiling insincerely. He went back to his own yoga mat, much to her relief, as it meant that she wouldn't have to come up with anything else to say to him. This wasn't over yet, though, not by a long shot. She rounded on Maura and hissed, "You told him I was _gay_?" And how in the hell had she managed that, since she couldn't lie? Did Maura actually believe...?

Her friend seemed far too amused by the proceedings. "No, he assumed. It's different."

"Right." Jane felt herself tensing up, even as Brock began class by instructing everyone to stand with feet shoulder-width apart, shoulders relaxed; but Jane couldn't let it go. "He _assumed_?" she said through gritted teeth.

Brock insisted patiently, standing right in front of Jane to make his point, "Just close your eyes and breathe. And breathe out."

To her credit, Jane did try. She took a long breath in through the nose, then exhaled deeply out the mouth before ruining the progress that the breathing would have made in her. "You better hope this calms me down," she warned, violence underpinning her words even though she did not make those threats aloud.

Still not sufficiently intimidated, Maura smirked, "Well, I could always tell him you like him."

"_Don't you dare_." Jane wasn't kidding, and to illustrate her intent more fully, gave Maura a shove in the shoulder.

"Oh, I wouldn't _dare_." Maura replied with just enough mock to register, not enough to call her on. She wasn't scared.

The classmate right next to them tried to shush both women, irritated that they were harshing her chill.

Jane apologized with a muted, "I'm sorry," right before pushing Maura off balance one more time, got shushed yet again, and apologized again, meaning it no more than she had the first time. Maura just laughed, proving that she really wasn't taking the implicit threats seriously. Inexplicably, Jane started to laugh, too, and the two succumbed to the worst case of church-giggles that that particular yoga class had ever had to endure.


	2. Chapter 2

By the end of class, Jane's mood had improved. Restraining laughter would do that for a girl. It wasn't the solution she'd have preferred to the Jorge problem, but maybe it was for the best. At least it was permanent. He wouldn't come to her door, serenading her with some cheesy song in the middle of the night just to get her attention. He was too gentle to turn on her and try to rough her up for spurning him. And it left him with the belief that it wasn't personal, wasn't about him, which was good, because surely someone would want a guy like Jorge. Just not Jane.

Still, as she showered and dressed again for work, the lanky brunette wondered exactly what Maura had said to put the idea that she was gay into Jorge's head. She knew her friend couldn't lie, and in fact found that to be one of her more endearing traits. But apparently she could be quite sneaky. She could leave out information, imply things by using true statements in a deceptive way. Or maybe Maura really did believe Jane was gay, and just said enough to bring Jorge to what she thought was the correct conclusion. As she toweled her hair dry, Jane frowned. Which one of those things had Maura done? Did it matter?

Yes.

So Jane finished dressing, then stood by their lockers to await Maura, who always took for-damn-ever in the showers.

Maura emerged, towel firmly bound around her body, skin pink and a little damp, and smiling. "Jane, I thought you'd be back at the office by now," she said with surprised pleasure in her voice as she plucked from her head the cloth-lined shower cap that had kept her hair dry and therefore presentable. "You waited for me?"

"You could say that," she growled out. "Maura, what did you say to Jorge to make him think I was gay? If he _assumed,_ then you had to say something to lead him in that direction. This is killing me. Come on, tell me what you said."

As Maura shook out her hair and started to brush it and apply her moisturizer, the shorter woman smiled, but not with confidence or bright humor or the glow of good health that had suffused her very being mere moments before.

"I told him that you thought he was cute and very sweet," she began, eyes flicking to Jane often to assess the effects of her words, "and that you hadn't meant to lead him on..." Nearby, other women were getting into or out of their workout gear, some of them trying to eavesdrop, but most not bothering. Maura gave one a pointed look that sent her scurrying, which was a pretty good trick considering that she didn't look any more threatening than a blueberry muffin. "...but that as much as you really wanted to believe that you could be into him in that way, you'd realized that you just couldn't."

Now the cosmetics came out, a little eye shadow and mascara, though no rouge. It was actually quite artful, the way she managed to get her eyes looking wide, contoured just so, adding drama and intrigue with surprisingly little of the stuff in the compact actually winding up on her lids.

"And from the 'she's just not into you speech' he jumped right into 'oh she must be a lesbian?' No way, I'm not buying it. What else did you to two say? Out with it. I need the hear the whole thing." Jane continued to lean on the lockers, not bothering to acknowledge any of the others around her. Her eyes were fixed on Maura, arms crossed, waiting.

Maura picked up her lip gloss tube and had the wand nearly at her mouth before Jane's 'gentle request' came through to her. "Um... Well, there _was_ more," she admitted, then hurried to brighten and moisturize her lips with her favorite color, Tiger Lily. "He asked whether it was him, despite the fact that I'd just assured him that it wasn't. I told him that we'd talked about him a lot, and that we'd agreed that he'd be perfect for most women, but you weren't most women. Then he decided that you must be a lesbian."

The way it sounded, there was nothing there to have given such a cue. But of course, Maura Isles was known to speak with far more than words. Facial expressions, eyebrow lifts, vocal tone, even her posture would add layers of meaning to just about everything that came out of her mouth. There must have been some nonverbal hint that she'd given, either intentionally or purely by accident.

"Yes, because 'she's not into you' totally means I _must_ be gay." Jane rolled her eyes. "Just tell me, honestly, how he really jumped from point A to point D. All I'm asking for is the truth. _All of it_." Jane sat down next to Maura on the bench. "I don't know why, but this is really bothering me, Maur'. I just want know. I mean," she looked over at her friend, "Do I give off a gay vibe or something?"

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about that, but yes, sometimes you do. But Jane, most women give off a gay vibe," Maura replied immediately. "From childhood, we're allowed to hold hands, hug and kiss one another, cuddle. Men can't do that without receiving societal censure." Hazel eyes flicked towards Jane's reflection in her mirror as Maura put away her cosmetic bag and pulled out her clothing bag, slipping the ridiculously impractical panties on beneath her towel in such a discreet way that, had a fourteen-year-old horndog been in the room, he'd have walked away frustrated at getting nothing of value.

She turned back towards the locker to put on her bra, however, pushing her towel down to waist level. "It is possible that a little additional... insinuation might have been in the delivery," admitted the woman as she fastened, adjusted straps, and then turned back around. "Do you really want me to demonstrate?"

She sighed at Jane's nod and in an instant, her entire demeanor altered. She repeated herself almost word for word, but this time included inflections. Her voice would drop in volume and sometimes pitch, then rise again to normal tones; a shoulder would dip; an eyebrow lifted. Along with the extra layers of significance came additional words as well. "...but... well, Jane isn't... most women," she said with chin lowered. Maura didn't quite wink, but had someone been standing right there, holding the second half of that conversation, he or she would have had no doubt what was being implied. "As her... _best friend_," and sweet Jesus, didn't _that_ contain a world of Sapphic undertone, not to mention the way her eyes were filling in all sorts of blanks, "I've seen her date a few men here and there," was that an emphasis on 'men'? "but I can tell her heart's not really in it. At a certain point, Jane finds herself stopping, and then she balks and comes back to me." She paused then, and delivered the coup de grace for poor not-really-there Jorge. "Not that I mind. At all."

"Wow." Jane stared up at the doctor. "You should have been an actress." She sat there contemplating the little show. "Wait a minute, 'always come back to you'?"

Maura smiled up at Jane, dress in hand, towel still around her waist, as Jane backed right away from the conversation she had started in the first place. "Yes, you do. Every time," she pointed out.

Jane stood up, towering over the smaller woman. "I thought we were pretty clear on who your type is and isn't. Anyway, I got to go. I'll see you at the station." Jane quickly turned on her heels and walked off, her shoulders slightly slumped as she made a hasty exit.

As Jane departed, Maura's smile fell a little bit, facial expression taking on a tinge of guilt, a flavor of sadness. "We _were_ clear," she murmured.

Five minutes later, she remembered to get dressed and head to work.


	3. Chapter 3

Jane quietly walked into the morgue less than half an hour later, coffee and chocolates in hand. She waited for Maura to look up. When the medical examiner finally did, she held the chocolate out. "I... I got this for you. Fudge clusters."

Maura stilled her scalpel hand just before it could slice into her day's work, a man who was actually, legally named John Smith. She was in full-on medical examiner mode, so the transition was entertaining to watch. First her head lifted, but her eyes remained focused on the corpse before her. A few seconds ticked by before her eyes raised in Jane's direction, but her face remained blank and unfocused. When her _awareness_ clicked into place at last, her smile was (relatively) immediate, and signaled her reentry into the world of the living. "Jane, how sweet! I love fudge clusters. Oh, but that's such a big bag. Tell me you're going to help me eat them. What's the occasion?"

"No 'occasion'. Just thought I bring you something nice." Jane leaned against the counter by the sink, away from the medical examiner's work area. "I hadn't planned on sharing, but you could probably talk me into it." She gave a small, insecure smile. "Brought us some coffee, too." Hold up the cups in the carrier, she nodded at them. "I though that, you know, since I was kind of... pushy at yoga today I'd do something less... pushy this afternoon." She scrunched her face up as she stared at the bag of chocolates in her left hand. "I feel kind of bad about the whole Jorge thing."

Maura took her usual leisurely time surveying Jane's facial and body language for additional, nonverbal information before replying. As she set her scalpel back in the sanitizer to wait for her, she peeled off both gloves and accepted the coffee in one hand and said, "I don't think he's really hurt. He exhibited none of the usual signs of having taken offense, and only a little bit of mild disappointment. His shoulders didn't even slump." She paused as, nearer enough now to be almost invading Jane's personal space, she took in what little facial muscle movements she hadn't been able to see from further away. "What's the real reason?"

"No, not Jorge... you. I meant I feel bad for making you have to go through your whole conversation with him about the, you know… about the _gay_ thing. I should have just dropped it and been thankful that I wasn't getting any more chocolates from Jorge." She rolled her eyes. "So, do you want to finish your work over there and then attack these, or you want me to open them now?" She shook the bag in her hand.

Maura removed one hand from the coffee cup and laid it, now warmed, on Jane's upper arm. She looked worried, brows drawn together, but spoke gently. "I didn't mind in the least. I'm sorry if I presented the impression that it bothered me. I just thought it might annoy you since the message was not what you wanted Jorge to believe." Delicately she coaxed the bag of chocolates from Jane's hand with her thumb and middle finger, then prized open the bow to pluck out one fudge cluster for Jane and one for herself. Once Jane had taken hers, Maura asked, "Did it bother you, what I said? Or... how I said it?"

Jane held the fudge cluster between her thumb and forefinger of her right hand, her coffee cup in her left. She held it up, staring at as she sipped her coffee, her face in a deep scowl. "You know, I'm not really sure. I think maybe a little of both. But, like I said, I should just count my blessing that I'm not getting these," she waved the cluster about slightly, "from him anymore." She took a bite of the treat, chewing slowly.

Maura took her own bite, head lowered so as to conceal her guilty expression. Once she'd swallowed the sugary, chocolaty, nutty bite, she'd come up with something to say. "I'm sorry I was deceptive. I should have understood that it would make you uncomfortable. If you like, I'll go back and tell Jorge the truth. I just couldn't think of anything else that wouldn't hurt his feelings and wouldn't be harmful to you, and would be accurate. Tell me what I should say to him."

The detective swallowed the last bit of her fudge cluster and slowly licked the chocolate from her fingers as she thought about it. "Well, " she began between licks, "technically, you did tell him the truth. " She moved from her thumb to her forefinger. "It was Jorge that assumed that... wait a minute." She finished licking the chocolate from her finger. "What do you mean 'and would be accurate'? Maura, do you actually think I'm gay?"

"That's not... what I'm trying to say," Maura replied as Jane licked her fingers, her own getting messier as her fudge cluster remained uneaten and melting. "If you'll recall, what I said was accurate because I didn't say that, or anything else of probative value. I merely spoke the truth. I've seen you date men, I've seen you reject them, and then you come to my lab or my house. That was all I ever said, and I think it was stated with factual accuracy. Admittedly, I implied... but I didn't say that you were gay, because I don't have sufficient information to make or refute that assertion." Only then did she finish off her fudge cluster, then absently lick the remains from her fingertips.

"But, you have enough to tell me I give off a gay vibe? Oh, wait, you said all women give off some kind of gay vibe."

"Almost all women," Maura corrected, but the correction went unnoticed.

The brunette snorted. "You know, I read somewhere that some people, some psychologists, think all women lean bisexual. I think about that every time something like this happens." She reached into the bag on the counter and pulled out another fudge cluster. "Or anytime I say some woman is attractive or anytime I hear one woman say another woman is sexy." She shrugged. "I guess that's kind of silly, isn't it? I mean, you can recognize someone is attractive without actually being attracted to them." She sipped her coffee as she watched the chocolate slowly melt between her thumb and forefinger. "I guess it bothers me more than it should because... I got nothing. I really don't know why. Maybe I'm just being hypersensitive about it." She took a bite of the cluster. Around the bite, she mumbled, "Hypersensitive? I've been hanging out around you too much. "

Several times as Jane spoke, Maura opened her mouth to add a comment of clarification or agreement, but as Jane rambled on, the doctor simply hushed herself, content to let her friend continue until she reached wherever she was going. As she too dipped into the bag for a second chocolate, she said, "You've given this a lot of thought," in a tone so neutral that absolutely no further implication or insinuation could be inferred, unless one were looking to infer something to begin with.

"Well, you get called a dyke only so many times before you start wondering," Jane gave an almost Gaelic shrug. "Is what it is, I guess." She began to repeat her actions of licking her fingers to remove the melted chocolate. "Guess I picked up the habit of researching from you, too." She frowned as she looked down her nose at her fingers, in search of missed chocolate.

"You've done research?" Maura repeated, head tilting to the side as she plucked up the baggie to scoop out two more fudge clusters. One, without thinking, she held right up to Jane's lips. "I'm impressed. What sort?" she wondered, popping the second chocolate whole into her own mouth.

Jane took a bite of the offered fudge cluster, letting Maura hold on to what was left of the piece. "Mostly," she said around the bite in her mouth, "to figure out where I fit on that scale thingy." She swallowed. "Like I said, you get called a dyke enough, you start to wonder. So, when this whole business with the lesbian couple came up, I figured I'd research it to," she held up a finger, "one, get a better feel for our victim, and," she held up two fingers, "two, figure out where I fit in since you guys decided to sign me up to go undercover at the Merch. There's a reason I was so good at those dates." She took a small, thoughtful sip of her coffee. "I researched the hell out of the lesbian culture and just the LGBT culture in general. I'm a detective. It's part of what I do. You know that." She eyed the half eaten chocolate being held between Maura's fingers.

Maura nodded thoughtfully, paying attention to Jane's statement and to the minutiae of facial tendon and muscle movement. So much so that she forgot to pay attention to her own actions, and absently bit into half of what was left of Jane's fudge cluster, then offered her the other half. "So... reading," she concluded, though with a query behind her tone. "I did wonder how you managed to fit in so seamlessly. I don't think anyone suspected that you had the slightest discomfort. You really were note-perfect. I was quite impressed. In fact, some of the things you did were inspired pieces of acting, if I may say so."

Giving the doctor an annoyed look, Jane responded, "Yeah... I'm a world class actor," she deadpanned as she rolled her eyes. With a flick of her tongue, she took the rest of the fudge cluster from Maura's fingers. In the same quick motion, the brunette grabbed the chocolate covered hand with her empty left hand. She quickly chewed and swallowed the small piece.

Maura laughed openly, eyes alight, as she protested halfheartedly. "You could have taken my finger off!"

"That was my piece, you thief," she said playfully. With more sarcasm she added, "And, I obviously should be on TV if I'm _that_ good of an actress." Giving her classic Rizzoli grin, she leaned forward and pulled Maura's fingers into her mouth, licking the chocolate from her fingertips. "I better go. Work." With a swagger to her hips, she turned and walked away leaving the fudge clusters on the cabinet.

Laughter stilled, shocked to silence, Maura stood stock still as her right hand, the one with the coffee, fell to her side. Unnoticed, the warm brown liquid poured from the cup and splashed at her feet, staining her pale blue scrubs. For the second time that day, she stood transfixed as Jane left her side.

When one of the technicians came in to deliver the information concerning a toxicology report for an autopsy she'd performed the week before, Maura was still standing there, staring at the bright yellow elevator doors, empty coffee cup in hand. "Dr. Isles!" he said, more than once, snapping his fingers before her face until her awareness ricocheted back into place. "What!" she said more loudly than she'd intended, and it took her a moment to regain composure and respond intelligently to his queries.

After the tech left again, Maura shook her head forcibly. This would never do. She had a job to perform. Hurriedly she ran to the phone to call a janitor about the coffee spill, then to the sink to scrub her hands pink. It didn't help, though. All day, from the beginning of the autopsy of John Smith until its conclusion, she kept feeling Jane's lips on 2,500 nerve receptors per square centimeter in her fingertips.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Maura," For the second time that day, Jane sauntered into the morgue. This time, it was the end of the day, and she was looking for the doctor for a different reason than to share chocolates, coffee, and conversation. "Maura? Hello?" She looked around the large, open area. "Where the hell is she?"

"Dr. Isles went to change," an assistant helpfully mentioned on his way from some other area to the filing cabinets with a sheaf of papers, nodding in the general direction of the women's bathroom. "She said she finished with John Smith, so she wanted to get out of her wet clothes."

"Oh, okay, thanks," Jane headed for the bathrooms. Opening the door, she called out again, "Maura, are you in here?"

She needn't have asked; a pale blue scrub gown hung over the door to the largest stall down at the end, and beneath the door one could see a pair of killer heels beneath a pair of equally killer calves. After a light, metallic thud, Maura's voice called out in the affirmative, adding, "I got back the tox screen from the Green autopsy last week. It's clean. I'm ruling natural causes. Is that what you wanted?"

"No, but good to know." Jane leaned against the wall across from the stall door where the gown hung. "I thought I'd see if you wanted to go out tonight. I know it's only Wednesday, but this week is seriously dragging. I was thinking about drinks at that little café down by your place. You know, the one that serves that really killer French style fondue. I've been craving that stuff for two weeks now. You interested? My treat."

The stall door opened, and Maura emerged, dress mostly in place, hair wildly _not_ in place, looking as rumpled as a walk-of-shame morning. Stepping to the mirror to neaten her appearance, she gave Jane's reflection a small, thoughtful smile. After slightly too long in silence, she replied quietly, "Just drinks? Not fondue?"

Jane shifted so that she was leaning against the wall but facing Maura's profile. "Both. I'm starving. Those fudge clusters are the only thing I had to eat today. If you don't say yes, I'm just going to pick up a large pepperoni, a six pack, and go watch reruns of _Law & Order._ Frankly, I'd rather have fondue and drinks with you."

"Can't have that," Maura agreed lightly as she fluffed her hair, turning the rumpled look into that soap-opera-tousled look, carefully engineered and organized chaos meant to suggest interrupted coitus between the characters of the week. Once achieving the desired look, she turned away from the mirror and favored Jane with a brilliant, warm smile. "I'd love to go there with you. Tell me something first, though. Do you use utensils for fondue, or will you be needing my hands again?"

The brunette pushed off the wall. Walking toward the doctor, she replied with a smile, "Yes. Meet you there at 6? I have to go walk Joe before I go." For the second time that day, Jane left before Maura could respond.

Maura tried to be upset at the non-answer, but wound up laughing and shaking her head. She'd asked for that by offering two alternatives; Jane had answered that yes, one of the two was correct. "Next time," she promised the door as it closed in front of her, "I'll be more specific."

Very early on, she'd known she was attracted to Jane, or as Maura had known her at the time, Detective Rizzoli. There was oh, so much to admire in Jane Rizzoli. Her forthright demeanor suggested basic honesty, a trait Maura valued highly, along with the bravery and commitment to justice that she knew Jane possessed. Her coworkers had started out harassing the woman, but quickly grown to respect her – even the ones whose harassment continued to this day. She was strong-willed, accomplished, extremely intelligent. Her life and her job had made her toughened, yet not hardened where it mattered: she often demonstrated unexpected compassion, a depth and tenderness towards those who needed it, such as could only come from real strength, as well as strength that could only come from gentleness of heart. Jane radiated the calm power of one completely at home with herself, as if she'd made the effort to look within, acknowledge everything she found there, and find a way to bring all of herself to bear on every aspect of her life. The world might not ever get to know the real Jane Rizzoli, but Maura felt that Jane knew herself very well, and was satisfied with all of that self.

That was not to say that Jane was always comfortable in every situation. But as Maura had come to realize, Jane's discomfort was never with herself, but with how others sometimes responded to her. She put herself out there, all the time. She was willing to take all manner of insults, because they did not degrade her. She could hear all kinds of messages, but none of them robbed her of her selfhood or dignity, because Jane didn't depend on others for those.

For too many years, Maura had walked as though her body was on loan from someone else, and God help her if she returned it in less than pristine condition. She had had to learn to own herself, and there were times when she still felt hesitant to take chances. Jane, by contrast, had lived her life knowing that she was her own proprietress, and she'd gladly take the knocks as long as they continued to strengthen her. It was like exercise for her, Maura thought, a tolerance that Jane had built up until she could withstand anything thrown at her, catch it, and throw it right back.

She took chances, got dirty, made mistakes. She was like a pirate. No, a gladiator. Cowboy... no, an Old West sheriff, a gunslinger for hire, the voice of justice and the hand of God.

Then there was the physicality of her. Sometimes Maura could go weeks at a time without even noticing anything about Jane but her mind, her ideas, the heart she put on display so readily – Maura had seen Jane so open, so beautifully able to share of herself, that she had a hard time understanding why so many people at work considered her a locked box, an enigma. Jane was so giving, so full of warmth for others, and this was what Maura meant when she'd called her best friend fearless. All of that made it actually easy to forget how visually appealing Jane was.

And oh, she was. Fit, tall, with a physical allure from head to toe. Maura was fascinated with Jane's face, the planes and angles of it, the way the light caught on her Mediterranean skin and the way her dark eyes were always full of shadows, offering much but keeping even more hidden. Work-roughened hands, scarred and calloused and perfect, that always touched her with such kindness.

Thank goodness Jane was such a physically demonstrative person, because Maura would have felt increasingly awkward, had she been constantly reaching for Jane, standing close, hugging. Jane did it too, at times even more than Maura did, and it helped Maura feel normal. Well, no, not normal, but at least not entirely out of place. Others commented on it, but at least they were commenting on both women and not just on Maura. But mostly, she was grateful because if Jane was doing it, too, that meant that _Jane_ felt normal and comfortable within their circle of two. No matter what anyone else said, if she knew that Jane felt easy about their level of physical, non-sexual intimacy, then Maura was happy.


	5. Chapter 5

At promptly six o'clock, Maura pulled her car into a spot at the café and strode inside, giving her name to the hostess and adding, "My friend may already be here. Jane Rizzoli?" The hostess promptly led her to the table where Jane already sat.

"Got you a glass of wine. It's the one you liked from last time. I also went ahead and ordered for us. I figured you'd be okay with you. You order for me all the time," she winked as she took a sip of her beer.

Maura sat down, smiling in simple delight. "Of course I'm okay with you ordering for me. You have excellent taste.

"Your fingers are clean, right?" The detective asked the question using a light, airy intonation, but her eyes seemed much more serious than her tone implied.

For an answer, Maura presented her hands for inspection. The nail polish she'd worn earlier was gone completely, though the nails had been buffed to a smooth shine as well as trimmed quite short, and if one were well-versed in what to look for, one would see evidence of recent exfoliation and moisturization. Her voice, when she spoke, was low, quiet... not husky, but there was a flavor of intimacy in it. Then again, that was common with Maura, who didn't deal well with casual society, people whose 'rules' were all informal rather than listed in detailed etiquette books. "I asked Trinh for unscented lotion this time, just in case. The scented ones taste bitter."

Jane leaned over the table, getting closer to Maura's hands as if giving them intense scrutiny. "Hmmm, " she murmured as her head leaned from left to right, "No dirt under your nails... they're shorter, " she glanced up at the doctor, a surprised look in her eyes, then quickly back down, "No nail polish, " she leaned even further down, close enough her nose almost touched the back of Maura's right hand, and inhaled, "Yup, nothing scented there. "

Again, she looked up at the honey-haired woman from her position bent over the table. This time, however, her eyes held the same mischief of earlier when they had eaten the fudge clusters. With a smirk on her face, she carefully ran her tongue up the length of Maura's right index finger, stopping just short of the last knuckle. The brunette chuckled as she sat up again. "You're right, it's less bitter. " She took a swig from her beer bottle, letting the humor she was obviously feeling play in her eyes and on her features.

Myriad ways to respond flashed through Maura's calculating, analytical mind. She still hadn't made a firm decision about how to handle Jane's earlier behavior, let alone this repetition – no, if she was honest, it wasn't repetition, it was escalation. There were so many choices for what she might want to convey, and so many ways to convey each selection, that her head had been muddled all day. Did she need to retreat, to pretend this was all what she expected from normal friendship? Jane would believe her. She knew Maura wasn't normal, didn't relate to people in the expected ways. She would allow her to back away, laugh, eat dinner, and pass the evening away discussing cases or interesting trivia concerning the origin of fondue.

And what if Maura wanted more? At the other extreme, she toyed with the notion of dropping all ladylike pretensions and flatten Jane with a proposition for some delicious, gymnastic sex. She knew full well that Jane wanted her. An in-depth student of facial expression study, she'd read the signs for months in Jane's face, voice, and overall demeanor. It would have been so easy to drop one hint, just one, laced with subliminal subtext – after all, it didn't all have to be accidental, did it? – and have her in bed, where her eyes, her hands, could get their fill of her at leisure, where her skin's hunger could be sated, and she could be the one to feel powerful for once. Maura knew her own abilities very well, and knew what she could do, make Jane feel, if she had ever decided to make the opportunity.

But Jane was not someone she could view that way. She was not a subject of an experiment, not a means to an end. As delightful as both would no doubt find such an event, that would be the end of it. There would be sex, and then there would be silence. The friendship for which Maura was so appreciative, the friend she treasured, would die of surfeit. Too much, too deep, too soon, and she would kill the relationship she'd come to value above all others. That thought had sickened her all day.

So now, when Jane licked her fingers, Maura's entire body focused on the sensation of pleasure, and she could not dampen it, could not _not feel_ even a little bit. All she could do was restrain the display of the effects, like she'd been doing for so long it was almost second nature now.

Very well, then. Her hesitation had gone on for approximately one second too long.

Maura smiled as Jane sat back and took a swig of her beer, her expression warm as she said, "Thank you. I do try to be thorough in my grooming. Did you know that hand hygiene is actually a vital part of religious discipline in some cultures, along with full-body care? Your own ancestors, the Romans, used to bathe by rubbing their skin with olive oil and salt, and then using a scraper to remove the oils after they had worked them into the skin to remove impurities. The Jewish people have a ritual bath called a mikvah, and the Turkish and Japanese cultures both use bathing as both a personal hygiene and as a public social activity. They..."

"Get naked and romp around in bath houses acting like it's no big deal that they're lettin' everything all hang out." Jane scrunched her face up in distaste. "Not really my thing. I mean, if I'm going to go somewhere that I know I'm going to be in the buff along with everyone else, I would really rather it just be me and one other person, someone I'm comfortable with, like you." She gave a thoughtful pause. "Yeah, I'd really rather be nude with someone I actually find attractive as opposed to some disgusting, hairy oaf of a guy." Jane gave a shiver of disgust. "Blech. Almost makes me not want to eat just thinking about it." She set her half empty beer on the table. "Maura, have you ever been to one of those places? I mean, a Turkish bath house... with all those other people... and the nudity... and stuff?" The detective's eyes got bigger with each portion of her last question until her face took on an almost frightened look.

Maura laughed a little as Jane described the situation in the most non-glowing of terms. "It's not what you're thinking. In Turkish and Japanese bath houses, the men and women are separated into different bathing rooms. There wouldn't be any men to oggle you, and if any women are oggling, they're discreet. It's really rather pleasant. Hot, humid. It stimulates blood flow and draws impurities to the skin, where they can be washed away." She finally took a sip of wine, absently running her thumb under her lower lip to catch the tiny drop that was left there. "You enter the bath house and are given a towel, robe, and slippers unless you've brought your own. You undress and put your things into a locker, and then you go to the showers, where you clean yourself thoroughly and completely with soap, cloths, brushes, cotton swabs, and so forth. You clean under your nails, in your ears and navel, exfoliate your entire body. Really, you're as clean as you can possibly get. That part is quite utilitarian."

As Maura warmed to her description, her eyes unfocused for a moment. "After you're physically clean, you can go and sit in the hot pool as long as you like. Very relaxing. If you want or need, you can take a break by dipping into the cold pool, then go right back to the hot pool as often as you like. Sometimes people talk and make conversation, but sometimes they just sit in silent contemplation, just like in a sauna. It's wonderfully relaxing. Actually, I was thinking about putting a bathing house in my back yard, since I don't really use the tool shed, and Lorraine brings her own tools in her truck. You'd be free to use it whenever you like, you know. That is, if you're willing to use it with me. Bathing alone in a proper bath house is dangerous, because you get so relaxed that you could fall asleep and drown."

Jane rolled her eyes. "You're the only person I know who would rather put in a bath house than a swimming pool in their backyard."

The server arrived with plates, utensils, fondue, and all needed accessories in hand. They waited in silence as everything was set up, and gave a murmured thank you before dipping their food in the warm cheese sauce and continuing on with their conversation.

"Besides," Jane began again, dipping a piece of sourdough into the fondue, "That offer sounds suspiciously like you're just trying to get me alone and naked somewhere so you can run off with my clothes in some kind of bad, high school prank." She glanced to the left quickly before adding, "Not that I've ever done anything like that… to Frankie." She popped the cheese coated bread into her mouth.

Laughter pealed out of Maura so quickly that she almost didn't have time to swallow her wine first. As she pressed a napkin to her lips just in case, her head shook, and once she had composed herself, she disavowed any such intention. "I would never run away with your clothes while you were alone." Beat. "As I understand it, the purpose for such a prank would be to expose the victim to others, which doesn't work when you're alone. If I wanted to do that to you, I would wait till we were at the gym." Mischief sparkled in her eyes as she speared a mushroom on her fondue fork and dipped it halfway into the cheese sauce. "Mm, this is good. Also," she continued her thought from before, "you can swim in a public place, because clothing is expected there. I found your swimsuits in your bottom drawer when I was looking for a T-shirt to borrow, that one time, so I know you don't mind that. If you wanted to experience a proper bath house, but didn't want to worry about other people, where else would you go?" Reaching for a cube of toasted sourdough, Maura contemplated the wisdom of neglecting to mention the four bath houses in the Boston area that had facilities for women, nor the six others that had mixed facilities.


	6. Chapter 6

"First of all," Jane pointed at Maura using her fondue fork, "I never said I wanted to give that a try. I said 'if', not 'when'. Second of all, there are a bunch of those places in Boston," she stabbed a slice of apple and dipped it. "What? Don't look so surprised. I'm a cop, it's my job to know what's in my city." She rolled her eyes. "I think you're trying to pull a fast one on me, Maur. Are you _sure_ you're not just looking for an excuse to get me naked?" She chuckled.

Maura pointed out with a sweet smile as she speared a piece of broccoli to dip, "You just said you weren't comfortable with public nudity, so if I take you at your word, it means that I believe none of those places would be suitable for your use. Secondly, I never said you'd be the only one using the bath house. And finally, no, I'm not looking for an excuse to get you naked." She swirled the broccoli around, getting cheese into all those little nooks and crannies. "I wouldn't try to trick you into exposing yourself. I'd want you to be cognizant of my intentions, so that you could make an aware, informed decision about whether you truly wanted to be naked in my company."

She paused, broccoli halfway to her mouth, then took it away again as she tipped her head to ask, "Do you realize how often you ask me that type of question?"

"Do you realize how often you bring up subjects that end up with the possibility of one or both of use being naked? Together? _Alone?_" The brunette flashed a look of challenge at the doctor.

Maura's eyes lifted towards the ceiling as if a list was posted there, and after a moment, she replied easily, "That's true. See what I mean? Most women, being generally sensual creatures just in our natural, at-rest state, do exude an impression of latent, if not overt, homosexual or bisexual tendencies some or all of the time. Gay vibe. Did you know that in Muslim culture, it's said that when Allah created desire, he created it in ten parts, and gave one part to man? The other nine parts of desire belong to woman." Then she slipped herself a well-cheesed cube of bread, so that she could be excused from having to say anything for a few seconds.

"That's… interesting." Jane set her fork down and picked up the dessert menu. "I'm thinking dark chocolate fondue for dessert." She flipped through the dark chocolate options. "You know, I guess that's right, though. I mean, the bi thing and women. If I were honest with myself, there are _plenty_ of women I'd flip for if they showed interest." She turned the menu around and pointed to an option. "Dark chocolate with a raspberry liqueur and fruit for dipping?"

Maura smiled as she replied simply, "That sounds wonderful."

"Great," Jane flagged a server down and ordered, asking for a glass of red wine and a refill on Maura's as she did so. "You ever think about it? Flipping, I mean?"

"By flipping, do you mean moving from one specific option to its opposite as a lifelong choice of one versus the other, or do you mean continuing with one option indefinitely but once, or occasionally, choosing its opposite?" Maura stalled – actually, blatantly stalled – as the server also removed their cheese pot and mostly emptied vegetable platter and refilled their water glasses.

The brunette sat quietly sipping her wine as the server set up the dessert. Once left alone, she answered over the rim of her glass, "I don't know; I think I mean a permanent switch." She set her glass down and picked up the fork. Deep in thought, she absentmindedly picked up a strawberry with the fork and dipped it into the chocolate. "No, that's not what I mean. I mean, you either are or you aren't." She held the strawberry over her small plate waiting for the chocolate to cool. "That just makes it sound like a choice. Most of the research I found shows that it is definitely _not_ a choice who you're attracted to." She frowned, looking up from her dessert. "I'm not sure I like where my logic is taking me here."

A perfectly, recently manicured hand slipped above the table to capture Jane's, while the other stole away the fondue fork and dipped the juicy berry into the waiting pot of chocolate. "Being gay or straight or bisexual isn't a choice," Maura confirmed as she dipped and swirled the strawberry around in the dark liquid. "But what a person does with his or her life is a choice. There are a lot of straight people who try to achieve a higher level of sexual stimulation by dabbling in something they see as forbidden, or at least foreign to them. I could never do that to a woman. It strikes me as just using a person as an object, to achieve a desired end for oneself without regard for the potential emotional turmoil of their partner... No, not partner. Direct object. I find that idea offensive.

"By the same token, there are gay people who choose to live in heterosexual relationships. Some do it to avoid religious, familial, or societal disapproval, while some have good reason to fear not just disapproval, but actual violence from those who will despise them if they come out. If I were gay, I could never stomach having to live in a sexless marriage, or worse, a fully consummated relationship that sickened me. Not only would it cause me lasting harm, but it would devastate a husband or boyfriend, who would really deserve to be with someone who actually wanted him, rather than someone who was using him as a shield. So, no, I could never flip from one life to another, not for a night, a week, a year, or a lifetime. But then..." Maura lifted the strawberry from the pot and held it there for a moment to dribble, then drip, then stop, before offering it to Jane. "...it isn't really necessary for me to flip. And if you really want to know, I don't think it's necessary for you to flip, either. It's been a long time since you... made a choice to act contrary to your nature."

Jane stared at the double dipped strawberry for a long moment before taking the offered fork and biting into the fruit. Her dark eyes roamed from the partially eaten chocolate covered strawberry to the hand that had somehow entwined itself with the doctor's to the honey-blonde's eyes. She slowly swallowed. "What do you think my nature is, Maura?"

Maura ate the remainder of the strawberry, both because it looked juicy and red and dripping with flavor, and because she wanted time to consider her words, make sure they couldn't be misconstrued. Or, at least, to minimize the probability of misunderstandings. "I think," she said with slow deliberation, "that I've watched you date various men, and during and after the dates, you always look uneasy. I think I have assembled enough data to form the hypothesis that you haven't been comfortable for a long while. Whenever a date goes badly for any reason, Jane, you come to me. You come to my lab looking upset and disappointed, or you come to my home looking lost and wondering why it goes wrong, and why you always trip over your own stumbling blocks instead of being able to respond fully to those men, most of whom are really good men, good people. It hurts to see you feeling like there's something wrong about you, because Jane, there isn't. There's something _wonderful_ about you."

Taking a deep breath, she assessed Jane's reaction for a moment before going on. "I think your nature is that you're strong enough to be everything that's within you, all your possibilities, all at once. Most people find one thing about themselves that they want to be, and they go in that direction because they don't want to look at their other potentialities. Maybe you were reluctant for a long time, too, but you've had some impetus to shove you towards bravery lately, and you're able to look at yourself without flinching anymore. It's not within you to sneak and hide from anyone, least of all yourself."

"You keep steeling my chocolate." The brunette lightly tugged at the fondue fork, pulling it slowly from Maura's grasp. "Why do you do that? You know, it's against a lot of girl codes to steal your friend's chocolate." She speared a piece of pound cake and dipped it into the chocolate. "You steal a lot of things from me," she murmured as she pulled the piece out to let it cool. "If there's something so wonderful about me, how come I feel like shit right now? I don't like this feeling, Maura. Confusion is not my strong point."

Maura prepared her own fondue fork with a trio of pound cake, mango, and more pound cake. She dipped it, but didn't move to eat the bit, caught in Jane's distress, which her own face echoed back. "What's making you feel bad? What can I do to help?" she asked with such earnest sincerity. "_Anything,_ Jane."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Anything?" She chuckled. "Careful there." Laying her fork on the small plate she pulled up their hands. "I think," she stared at their hands, wrapped in each other, their fingers threaded between each other, "I think… that…Maura," her eyes never left their hands, "Are we on a date?" The question came slowly from her lips as her thoughts ran wild, entirely missing the fact that Maura had begun nodding even before setting down her fondue fork, before Jane had caught up her hands, and that she did it again when Jane asked...

"I think we might be on a date, and I'm pretty sure I think about us going on dates a lot… with each other… and, frankly, that confuses me because I don't date women, and it scares me because I'd hate to lose you as friend. You're my _best friend._ I don't want that to change." She sighed heavily.


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't date women. At least, I don't think I do, but, then again, I think about it with you… and some other women," Jane frowned, eyebrows knit with concentration. "I like men. I'm attracted to men, but I'm attracted to… ah hell, Maura," her eyes finally moved back to the other woman's, "I'm pretty sure I'm bi. That's pretty damned confusing when you're trying to wrap your head around it and you're me. It's like waking up one day and finding out that, all of the sudden, you're a different nationality or gender or something. Everything you know about yourself is off, and it's weird… and really confusing."

Maura had never dealt well with her emotions. She could conceal them utterly, but at those times she became little more than a cyborg, as Jane herself had once pointed out, and she hated doing that with Jane. Her only other alternative was to let her face show it all: elation that Jane had even asked, that she'd considered the question, and at being reminded of their especial friendship; pride that her dearest friend had made the leap of faith to learn about herself, and then another leap to share her truth with Maura; and then, gradually, sadness, distress, upset. She couldn't stop her lacrimal glands from overproducing tears, nor her arm muscles tightening, her fingers gripping Jane's more securely. "Oh, Jane," she said with mourning in her throat, in her voice, "I want so much to help. I'd do anything to be able to help, but I can't. I shouldn't."

"Why?" It was a plea laced with immense loss, as if Jane had suddenly lost something very dear to her. "I'm not asking you to by my experiment, Maura. I'm asking you to," she shook her head, lips forming a tight line as she pulled her hand away. "No, I can't do this. I just lost. Whatever we had, I just broke it." She stood up, stepping out of the booth. "I knew better. You think too much, and I don't think enough." Quickly, she bent over and placed a gentle kiss on Maura's lips before pulling back just as quickly. "Good bye, Maura." In a flourish of frustration and sadness, Jane quickly retreated, leaving Maura alone in the booth.

For the fourth time that day, Maura had been abandoned. For the first time, she was able to respond. "No," she squeaked as she opened her purse, dumped all her cash on the table - quite enough for ten times the actual tab - and ran after Jane. "No!" came her more assertive protest as she flew through the doors of the café, still running, until she spotted the detective by her car. "NO!" she finally shouted, red in the face and breathless, as she caught up to the car. "You don't get to do that!" she howled, pounding on the window, tears spilling, nose running. "Jane! Stay! Please stay! _Please, Jane..._" she finished with a whimper.

Jane sat in the driver's seat looking through the window at the woman outside. "I hate it when she cries," she said out loud before opening the car door and stepping out. "Please don't cry, Maura. We'll be okay. We'll just pretend like none of this happened, okay? It was a mistake. I get it." She moved as if she were about to hug the smaller woman but stopped short, withdrawing. "What can I do so you're not crying? If you keep it up, you're going to make me start, and you know how much I hate to cry."

Maura snuffled unattractively in an effort to control the physical manifestation of her emotions, gasping in, shuddering breaths out, the antithesis of their yoga breathing exercises. It was quite some time before she could pull herself together, slow her breathing, and respond verbally. "You keep leaving me today," she accused, wounded. "Why do you do that? Don't you even want to know what I would have said if you'd stayed? What I'd have done? And why do we have to pretend none of this happened? It happened. It mattered to _me._ Jane. _You_ matter."

Jane leaned against her car, hands pinned between her back and the closed car door. "Normally, I leave you like that because I know it irritates you," she gave a small smirk. "But, this time I just couldn't deal with a 'let's be friends', so I walked. I'm sorry." The brunette's gaze fell to her feet where it remained. "I was afraid I'd say something that would keep us from even being that."

Maura stepped in, lest Jane have enough maneuvering room to get back in her car and drive away before she could stop her. "But I do want to be friends. Always. You're my best friend, and I'm yours, and you can't make me stop." She lifted her face, which had dried rapidly in the evening wind, though her skin was still blotchy and her eyes still shone a little too brightly. "I don't know why being bisexual makes you feel bad, but I really meant it when I said I would do anything to make you feel better. I just feel my hands are tied, and I'm scared, Jane, I'm so scared." She leaned into Jane, arms snaking inside the detective's blazer, heedless of the fact that with Jane's hands behind her, she couldn't hug back. "My first instincts will probably always be the wrong ones, and I'll do something... wrong, and then I'll make it worse for you, because I'll always have a shadow over anything I try to do for you. I'll always be second-guessing myself, wondering if I'm really doing it for you, or for myself."

Swallowing hard, Jane closed her eyes. "Maura, if you're trying to keep me from feeling bad, you have a funny way of showing it." Her jaw clenched and unclenched. "You… this close… God, you're wrapped around me and all I can think is," she opened her eyes, looking down into Maura's hazel gaze. "Maura, just be honest. Do you want this as much as I do, or is this you being socially awkward? I can deal with either one, but I have to know which direction to go with it. I'm either going to pull away so we can talk and you're not touching me, or I'm going to kiss you again. But, right now, I have no idea which way to go. You need to throw me a bone. I have enough confusion going on right now."

Words always helped to clarify issues, elucidate problems, present the correct questions and answers, prevent misunderstandings. Maura loved words, but this time, words weren't helping. What else was available? She ran down the short list. Words, then thoughts. Thoughts had always been her friends, sometimes her only friends, but today they hadn't provided any assistance in her need. Her arms tightened around Jane's waist; her body pressed inward. There would be no driving away, no pulling away, no leaving her again. Not today. She needed time to think, to form the right words to make all this right again.

No, that wouldn't do. She'd already established that those things would not be of any use at the moment. What was left? What she could say or think right now would help herself, but what would help Jane? Actions. There must be something she could do that would erase all confusion.

It hit her. Jane had given her the answer already. Maura leaned her torso back, though she was smart enough to keep her arms in place, lest Jane run again. What would she do? What would she say? What would she think? Enough. No more questions; those could wait. Maura raised up on tiptoe, causing her body to slide upward against her lanky friend's, and kissed her. She'd used quite enough of the wrong words; maybe this would make up for some of them. All the tenderness, all the friendship, all the quietly smoldering passion she'd felt for so long came pouring out into that kiss, everything she hadn't said, everything she'd tried to say but failed to make her point. _Understand,_ the kiss begged. _Please understand._


	8. Chapter 8

Jane pulled her arms slowly from behind her to wrap around the smaller, helping hold her up as the brunette returned the kiss with just as much passion. Withdrawing, she whispered, "I want to be with you, Maur. I have for a while now. I just couldn't figure out a way to ask without chancing losing you if you said no."

Maura sank into Jane, tensed muscles relaxing and allowing her to bend, mesh, become pliant. "I've been going about this all wrong," she said in between one kiss and the next. "I've done my best flirting, and you kept refusing to see it. I didn't think you'd ever take me up on it, and I've been so _frustrated_. And now we're here and I'm kissing you, and all I can do is wonder how far we'll go _this_ time before I wake up and want to smash my alarm clock."

Face showing the relief now pouring through her body, Jane chuckled into their kiss. "You too, huh?" She kissed Maura's forehead. "You're the reason I'm late for work most of the time. Well, dreams about you, anyway." Leaning in, she whispered, "You know, that waiter from our table has been watching us for the last five minutes through the window. I'd ask what you did to him before you ran out here, but I'm tempted to say we should give him a show. But, I'm thinking that's not your style." She laid a kiss against Maura's neck, close to her ear. "Maura, do you want to go home?" The whispered question floated quietly in the evening air.

"_Just_ dreams?" Maura wondered, slowly moving into a certain sultry smugness. "Hm. Maybe we _should_ go home, or else we really will make that man's night, even more than the three hundred dollar tip I left him, or however much it was, and then you'll have to arrest us both for public indecency."

"Three hundred dollar tip?" Jane's eyebrows rose in shock and surprise.

Maura looked guilty. "Or however much I had. I up-ended my wallet because I didn't want you to drive away."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to carry that kind of cash around with you? It's dangerous, Maura." She moved her hands to the doctor's waist. "My place or yours? We both drove, and loverboy over there doesn't seem to be the type to watch one of our cars for us." She gave a nod toward the building where the waiter was still watching through the window.

Maura paused, realizing that her head was tilted back, that her hands were up under Jane's jacket, and laughed. "You know, I've been wishing I could say this, and you'd know what I meant by it. Jane... take me home. _Now_."

Lowering her voice, a growl escaping with the sentence, Jane replied, "I've been dying to hear you tell me that, so decide pretty quick or we _will_ make a scene."

Maura pressed in for another long kiss, stopping herself just before her own responses went full-body. "If you can get Frankie to take Joe Friday tonight, let's go to mine. It's closer, and right now, speed seems appealing."

Reaching a hand between them, Jane pulled her cell from its place on her belt and hit the speed dial button for her little brother. "Frankie, I need you to watch Joe tonight. No, I'm not, but I have something I need do." Her dark eyes ran over Maura's face, ending on her lips. "So? Go walk her tomorrow. She's a chick magnet. You said so yourself. I'll pay twenty bucks." Her other hand ran up the smaller woman's frame to her hair where she began to gently run her fingers through the honey-brown curls she found there. "What? Really? Okay, I'll do something to take the heat off of you the next time Ma starts in on how you should be dating Leona Cartulli. Oh yeah, I _promise_ it'll take the heat off you… for a long time." She winked at Maura. "We're talking _months_ of freedom here. No way. You just have to trust me. I'm not telling you what. Yeah, leash is by the door. Thanks." She hit the end button. "Let's go."

It took real effort not to laugh at Jane's expert handling of her brother, but Maura knew she couldn't laugh, because it would come out as a throaty chuckle that, while he'd never heard it before, Frankie would positively identify as belonging to herself, and then the game would be afoot before Jane was really ready. Still, Maura mused as she tuned out the details of the phone call, at least she was expressing willingness to come out to her family. It was a big step, and Maura was proud that she even considered it. Then the phone call ended, and she had another choice to make. They could ride together, but then she'd have to come back to her car, or drive Jane back to pick up her own, adding time to the morning commute. Too, there was the possibility that she'd be unable to keep her hands off of Jane, and they could have a vehicular accident. Reluctantly she pushed herself off of Jane so that she could get into her own car. "I won't race you, but I'll tell you that whoever gets there first gets to chop salad for Bass's dinner. And Jane? I..." _Too soon_, she thought, pressing her lips together. "I really like you."

"Salad chopping for Bass isn't really much of a win, is it? I'll drive slow." The detective opened her car door. "I like you, too, Maur. See you in a few." She slowly slid down into her seat.


	9. Chapter 9

Maura arrived first, leaving the door unlocked behind her for Jane. She fed Bass, then rushed to make certain there were two water bottles on each nightstand in her bedroom. Fortunately Jane had dawdled, no doubt hoping to get out of chopping spinach, which gave her just enough time to accomplish what little she felt needed to be done. No need for a shower; she'd been beyond sufficiently groomed at the salon. _God bless Trinh, patron saint of silky smoothness._ Next visit, she would definitely increase the size of the aesthetician's tip.

Jane wasn't surprised to find the door unlocked, nor was she surprised to find Bass already eating his dinner. She was, however, surprised to find Maura nowhere in the kitchen or living room. Moving through the house, she finally stopped in the doorway to the master bedroom, watching Maura adjust the water bottles to be just so. "It's a cylinder, Maur. There are only so many ways you can turn it," she quipped as she leaned against the frame.

Maura whirled around, surprised and pleased to find Jane watching her from the doorway, looking cocky, turned on, and drop-dead sexy. The physical and mental calm she'd regained as a necessary precursor to driving, not to mention using a sharp knife to prepare her tortoise's evening repast, abruptly vanished. So did her need for symmetry; the last water bottle was at least a couple of inches out of perfect alignment with its fellow as she left it and rushed towards the doorway to welcome the tall brunette properly. "I thought you'd never get here," she sighed in relief as if Jane had been overseas at war for a year.

Several pleasant minutes passed as the two of them reaffirmed their connection, until at last Maura broke herself apart from Jane's lips. "Remember when I said I'd never trick you, and that I wanted you completely aware of my intentions?"

Jane nodded. "Yeah, I remember that."

"Okay, then. We can do this any way you want, but my intention right now is to get you naked and figure out who's going to ravish whom. I anticipate a thoroughly enjoyable struggle for dominance… which I'll be _very_ happy to let you win. Eventually."

With a growl, Jane stopped her attack on Maura's throat to look her in the face. "Hmm… I've never done this sort of thing before, but I'd say I'm not stopping you from pulling anything off." She waggled her eyebrows as she reached down to the bottom hem of her shirt. "Let me show you what I mean." With a quick movement, her shirt was off, leaving her in a black cotton bra. "See? Easy," she leaned forward to capture another kiss. "Think you can manage?"

Maura was quick to reestablish contact, this time with Jane's bare skin, the feel of which under her hands made her breath catch and then quicken. "_Jane_," she exhaled before her lips were busy at Jane's lips, cheeks, neck, collarbone, heartbeat, and back up. Hands made expert in human anatomy traced hard muscles under soft, warm skin, kneaded, stroked, massaged. A single flicked finger sprang the cotton bra snaps apart, but she took her time removing it, time for kisses of earlobes, nibbles at the shoulders.

Even as she made her hands and mouth remain above the waist entirely, two things were apparent. The first was that Maura Isles had skills, learned skills, studied skills. Either that, or she'd had ample time to practice this over and over in her agile mind, visualizing so intently that it had become reality. The second was that skill was the least of her assets, because the most important thing she gave to Jane was her intentions, her desire for Jane's enjoyment.

At a later moment of extreme inconvenience, Waltzing With Bears blared out from Jane's phone. Maura groaned, but clearly she was in a better position to answer than Jane. "If we don't answer, he'll just keep calling. Let me," she suggested, and groped around the foot of the bed for the phone.

"Vince? ... No, it's Maura. Hi. ... Uh, fine. Look, is anyone dead? ... Dying? ... Sick? ... Good. I will give you a thousand dollars if you hang up this phone right now and don't call again for the rest of tonight. If you don't, I swear to God, I will tell you _exactly_ what you interrupted, and it will Scar. You. For. _Life_. ... Good boy." With that, she snapped the phone shut, tossed it back onto the floor, and returned to the business at hand.

A moan erupted from Jane who, in her prone state, wasn't in any position to do much more than give a fleeting comment. "Going to be a long day tomorrow… I'm only worth a thousand dollars?" The rest of the comments stopped short by Maura's returned attentions.

Maura caught her breath as she explained, "If I offered more, he would assume I was kidding. With just a thousand, he knows I'm committed. Now, speaking of committed, where was I? Ah, yes."

The remainder of the night passed eventfully.


	10. Chapter 10

The following morning, the two went about their usual routine, except that this time Jane wasn't relegated to the guest bathroom, and there was even more than their usual level of physical contact as they groomed, dressed, had breakfast, and prepared for the day. Bass got fed, letters were picked up to be mailed, and while Jane did the dishes, Maura cleared out two dresser drawers and a good third of her closet, "just in case." Then they each drove to the station, talking on their hands-free cellphone earphones the entire time.

It was amazing how little driving stress either of them had.

Since Jane wanted to stop off at Frankie's to pick up Jo Friday and take her back to her place, Maura arrived first, bearing coffees from her little gourmet shop. Barry took the cup with an expression that, Maura was fairly certain, indicated that he was blushing, his cocoa skin darkening with increased blood flow beneath his smile. He probably thought she couldn't tell. She smiled back up at him. "Here, Barry. Good morning." He knew. She knew he knew.

The medical examiner chuckled before turning around to bestow the second cup on Vince Korsak, the biggest gossip in the Greater Boston area, along with a folded cheque for one thousand dollars. "Vince," she said in dulcet tones, and watched him blush with a great deal more fanfare. She lowered her voice and leaned in to murmur, "Thank you." He stammered.

Maura stood upright again and asked both of her second-favorite detectives, "Would you please let Jane know I've got her cup downstairs?" Silence. Staring. Stammering. Grinning. "Okay, then, I'll just wait for her here." She sat down right in Jane's chair, rested the carrier containing two more coffees on Jane's desk, actually propped up her Manolo Blahniks, and closed her eyes.

Jane paused as she entered the squad room. Maura looked as though she was sleeping at the detective's desk, and her former and current partner were taking great pains to _not_ look at her. She wanted to be irritated or embarrassed. But, she'd known this was going to happen the moment Maura answered Jane's cell for her and it was Korsak on the other end of the line. She only had a few options, and she wasn't really one to back down from a challenge.

Smirking, she sauntered over to her chair to stare down at the peaceful face of the medical examiner whose eyes had remained closed. Glancing from one male detective to the other, she raised an eyebrow, gave a shrug, and leaned over to kiss the honey-brunette occupying the office chair below her.

Maura didn't even open her eyes to check the identity of her kisser before lifting her hands from her lap, where they'd been folded patiently, and sweeping them up Jane's back to her shoulders. "Mmm. Second-best wakeup all day," she whispered sleepily.

Frost gave up on trying not to stare, jaw dropping. "Now, that's hot," he muttered into his coffee cup, not quite as quietly as he thought.

"You're so right," Maura murmured back, eyes dilated, and swung her feet back to the floor. "Jane, the coffee with the mark on the lid is yours. Extra everything."

Korsak quickly looked around to make sure no one else had seen. Miraculously, no one seemed to have been looking in that direction at the relevant moment, and for once, it looked like the big teddy bear had kept his mouth mostly shut. Only Frost had given either Maura or Jane _the look._ He hissed, "Jesus, Janie, you want the whole department in on this, or just me and your partner?"

Just then, Frankie walked in. "In on what? You pull a great case?"

"Nope," Turning to her partner, she began a small tirade. "Frost, stop staring at Maura. You don't get to do that anymore unless you're okay with me kicking your ass." Turning to her ex-partner, she narrowed her eyes. "We all know you can't keep your mouth shut, Korsak. It's just a matter of time before the entire place knows anyway."

Finally, landing her gaze on her little brother, she added as a fleeting remark, "Ask the office gossip over there if you really want to know," she motioned to Korsak. Jane shot a pointed look back to Frost as she picked up her coffee and pulled the lid off. "Thanks, Maur. Is this that pumpkin spice specialty coffee stuff?" She gave it a hesitant sniff. "Hey, are you going to give me back my chair, or am I going to have to sit in your lap?"

The coffee was indeed the special pumpkin pie spice, but she didn't explain; Jane would know by sniffing and tasting. Maura ceded the chair to Jane, not wanting to test the limits as far as office etiquette concerning public displays of affection. While smoothing her dress, she mentioned to the younger Rizzoli, "Frankie, if you want that ammunition for your folks the next time your mother feels the need to needle you about anything, you'll keep this to yourself for a little while at home. Capiche?"

"Capiche," Frankie replied, dumbfounded by several things, the least of which was Maura's new vocabulary word.

The medical examiner stood and… not quite sashayed, but she walked with a little more relaxation than usual. On the way out, she patted Frankie's cheek. "Good boy. See you at gnocchi night."

Frankie nodded to the medical examiner as she left the room, and, after a moment to recover more, he walked to his sister's desk. "You're right, Janie, this'll throw Ma for _months_," Frankie's voice still held an aura of shock. "You really just going to drop this on her? I mean... Jane...?"

"No, of course not," Jane sipped her coffee as she ran through her morning tweets. "I really like this Twitter thing. These girls crack me up. You should tweet more, Frankie. I bet you could find a nice girl, and then Ma would leave you alone."

"Jane." His voice held an edge of warning.

"I don't know, Frankie. When is a good time to tell Ma, who has been hounding me since I was 18 to find a nice boy and settle down, that I found a nice _girl_ I think I might eventually want to settle down with? There's really not a good time for that kind of talk, you know?"

"You should just tell her. Ma and Pop love us. You know they're always saying they just want us to be happy. Besides, Maura is practically family already. I think they'll be okay with it."

"You think?" Jane leaned back in her chair, looking up at her younger brother. "Either way, I'll have to tell them soon. With Korsak knowing, it'll be everywhere in a few days anyway."

"Hey, I can keep secret," Korsak yelled from his desk.

"Yeah?" Jane threw back, "Then how come Frost knows?"

"I'm your partner, Jane. Why wouldn't you want me to know?" Frost sounded hurt and slightly annoyed.

"See what I mean?" She mumbled into her coffee cup.

"You better tell her soon." Frankie gave his sister a gentle pat on the shoulder. "I don't envy you, sis. No, I take that back. I do envy you. Maura is _hot_."

"Hey! _Mine_. Hands off." She smacked him in the stomach for emphasis.

Holding his hands up to show he meant no harm, Frankie replied with a smile, "I know... I know. I been figuring that for a while now. Geeze."

"A while? How long?" Jane's face fell from joking to serious mode in seconds.

"I don't know... a few months." He shrugged.

"Yeah, like all the months since Maura took over as Chief Medical Examiner," Korsak snorted.

"Seriously, Korsak?" She shot the older detective a death glare.

"I actually thought that you two were dating when I first started working homicide." Frost flinched as the death glare swung his direction. "But, I eventually figured it out... that, you know... you were just really good friends." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Janie, does it matter? Look, the truth is a lot people assumed you two were a pair a long time ago. So, really, I don't think it's going to be a big deal." Frankie gave his sister a shrug. "You just need to be up front with Ma and Pop. You know how they are about that stuff."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll go talk to Maura about it. I don't want Ma to blindside her with 'Bridal Weekly' or something." She sighed heavily. "After I talk to Maura, I'll call Ma and make a lunch date."

"For today." Frankie glared at Korsak who just rolled his eyes.

"For today." Jane sighed again.


	11. Chapter 11

Walking into the morgue, Jane's face was tense, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She anxiously glanced around the room until she found the honey-blonde seated in front of her laptop computer that was currently stationed on a cabinet by the sink. Jane walked quickly over to the doctor and said what was on her mind before she could chicken out. The words quickly spilled out.

"Maura, I have to tell Ma about us today before the rumor mill Korsak started gets back to her, and Frankie thinks I should tell her at lunch, and I think he's probably right, so I'm going to call her to set up a lunch date today, but I don't want to tell her unless you're okay with it, but, if we _don't_ tell her before the rumors hit her, our ass is grass, but I'll do whatever you want because I want you to be okay with it, and I'm not completely okay with it, but I'm not ashamed or scared for people to know about us either because, well, I really kind of like the idea of people knowing that I belong to you... erm ... that we're dating, I mean, but Ma needs to hear this from me... from us? What do you think?" Chewing anxiously at her bottom lip, she shifted her weight back and forth waiting for Maura to respond.

Maura was smiling even before she looked up from her laptop. "You sound tense, Jane. Come here. Read the email."

_To: Daddy , Mother _

_Cc: Jane .us_

_Subject: Desiderata _

_From: Maura .us_

_I know how little you both like surprises, so you should know that I'm involved with my best friend Jane, about whom I've spoken often, so perhaps this will not be a surprise for you at all. I don't know if she'd care to hear me call her my girlfriend or lover quite so early as this, but I do care for her more deeply than I've ever cared for another person, and have felt that way for some time. Whatever she chooses to call it, I know that her feelings match mine. When you come back from Greece, I'd like you to meet. In the meantime, perhaps video conference would be wise. Before that happens, know that what you say to her or feel about her will not influence my feelings at all towards Jane, but may impact my relationship with you, so choose your demeanor wisely._

_Bass is fine. He enjoys his monthly play date with the other tortoises, and is very active and fit._

_I love you both._

- Maura

_-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
Listen to the Mustn'ts, child. Listen to the Don'ts._

_Listen to the Shouldn'ts, the Impossibles, the Won'ts._

_Listen to the Never Haves, then listen close to me:_

_Anything can happen, child. ANYTHING can be._

_- Shel Silverstein_

"Once I send this email," Maura said with a smile as she reached up for Jane's left hand to give it a quick massage, "they'll know. I'm a little nervous, but I'm also confident because I'm not facing this alone, as I did in childhood. Then, my burgeoning sexuality was I knew in my mind without anything happening in my actual life to cause it, nowhere to direct it. It was just a theory. Now it's established fact, but it's not a surprise to them. Do you think your parents will be surprised?"

Jane let out a long breath as she took in the email and what Maura was saying. "Honestly?" She paused, really considering the question based on what Frankie had said just a few moments before. "No, not really. I want to say yes because I don't like being so predictable, but I really don't think they will. Ma's been hinting around about who I _actually_ want to date for a while now." She shrugged. "I'm guessing she guessed before I had a clue what was going on in my head. Ma's got a weird knack for doing that."

"Whenever you decide to tell your parents," Maura offered, switching to Jane's right hand, "and however, and whatever details you choose to share, I will support you entirely. I'll be there with you if you want, or I'll wait in the car for a quick getaway, or I'll wait at home with tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for comfort. Whatever you need, Jane, anything you need, I want to give it to you."

"Well, I could think of a few things I need right now," Jane gave the doctor an meaningful look. "But, I'm thinking that's just too weird in the morgue."

Agile fingers worked out the morning pain in Jane's hands, but Maura kept most of her attention on her best friend's face. "Never in the office," she agreed softly, "but after work, I am entirely available to you."

Jane laughed. "Maura, I'm just going to bite it and tell Ma at lunch. I want you to be there. I feel like I'm going into a fire fight, and, frankly, I'd like to have the back up. You really think you'll be okay with it, or do I need to demonstrate how to handle a Rizzoli family argument like I had to show you how to use my gun?"

Rather than laugh it off, Maura gave the suggestion serious consideration. "That might help. Sometimes when you're fighting, and I think it's about to come to blows or disowning, everyone starts hugging and crying and then it's over. Other times, it looks just the same to me, but then people storm out – you must have learned that _leaving_ habit from them." She bit her lip in contemplation, massage slowing for a moment with the effort of thought. "Maybe just a nudge to let me know which way it's going to go? Your mother knows me a little, and if I behave differently from usual, she'll instinctively feel that something is wrong. What we really want, I'm sure, is for her to feel that something is finally right."

"For Ma, nothing's going to be 'right' until I'm married and settled down with children," the detective closed her eyes allowing herself to enjoy the feel of Maura's fingers working out the soreness in her hands. "My best advice is not to go Google mouth. I know you tend to fill up awkwardness with facts, but it'll just make it worse." She opened her eyes again, letting them run over the form of the woman in front of her. "There's _no way_ I can hide what I'm thinking when I look at you. I'm pretty sure what I'm thinking is written in bold letters across my forehead when you're around. So, if you're there, Ma's not going to have a lot of questions about what's changed. It's going to be other things like future plans and stuff like that, assuming she's as okay with this as I'm thinking she will be.

"But," she reached out with her free hand to touch Maura's face, "don't be afraid to touch me or to say something if you think it'll help a point I'm trying to make, or Ma for that matter. If you're going to be a part of the Rizzoli clan, you'll have to prove you can hold your own. I know you can. Just remember to stand by your beliefs, like I know you always do, and you'll be fine." She gently ran her finger down Maura's jawline, letting her thumb lightly brush across Maura's lips before letting her hand fall back down to her side.

A tiny sound emitted from Maura's throat at that soft touch. It was amazing how vocal she could be, now that she was permitted to acknowledge the feelings and sensations that Jane gave her. "I shouted at my birth father in sight of his thugs. I think I can handle your mother in a nice, neutral restaurant. Speaking of which, I'd better complete my report from yesterday's autopsy so that we can get free in a timely fashion. As much as I would rather just hold you all day. Hm. Would either of us get any work done if I brought my files and laptop upstairs? …No, probably not. Never mind. Go upstairs, Jane," she growled, breaking off for a not-entirely-chaste kiss, "before I forget that our surroundings are inappropriate for romance."

"That's not really an argument to get me to leave, Maur," Jane's eyes danced with laughter. "But, I'll go, but only because I have to call Ma and handcuff Korsak's chair to his desk. See you at lunch."


	12. Chapter 12

Angela Rizzoli had been fuming in the restaurant for fifteen minutes, thanks to her daughter's tardiness, never mind that she had arrived twenty minutes early for their lunch. Even so, she'd managed to wrap the hostess and several wait staff around her finger, using a combination of maternal hominess and patented Rizzoli charm. She was noshing on a bread stick by the time she spotted her daughter, five minutes early for the stated lunch time and still not early enough to satisfy her. She didn't spot Maura, who had nipped into the restroom to wash her hands because she'd driven, and touching steering wheels and car doors made her need a good scrub.

"What took you so long? I've been here forever!" The elder Rizzoli stood up to give her daughter a kiss on the cheek. "I'm _starving_, and I've got so much to tell you. I've been talking to your uncle, Edward, and he says he knows a guy that… Jane, what's wrong?" She motioned for her daughter to sit down as she took her seat again.

"Nothing's wrong, Ma. I just," Jane flinched, "Ma, I asked you to lunch so I could tell you something, and I want you to promise me you won't freak out."

"Me? Freak out? Jane, don't be silly. Of course I won't freak out," Angela claimed with a straight face, as if it were perfect truth. "You can trust me with whatever it is. You know you can tell me anything." Angela gave a reassuring pat to Jane's arm, careful to avoid her daughter's hands. "Now, tell your mother what's on your mind."

"Yeah," the dark-haired brunette looked nervously toward the restrooms, "I don't really know where start with this one, Ma. I mean, this is… well, it's going to be a big deal, I think, and," she glanced at the restroom door again, and relief flooded her. "Maura," she breathed out the other woman's name as if were a prayer. Her dark brown eyes remained on the approaching figure, breath caught as she waited for Maura to make it to the table.

Maura arrived with a smile, offering a little hand squeeze to Angela in greeting before seating herself beside Jane. She appeared perfectly calm, as she had since she'd come up from the morgue to remind Jane of this appointment. She was there primarily for moral support, which meant being steady as a rock so that Jane had something solid and sure to count on, to look at and reassure herself. Beneath the table, she shifted so that her left calf was alongside the taller woman's, comforting with contact in a way that would not directly impinge on Mrs. Rizzoli's awareness. "Jane," she murmured, not to begin any further sentence, but just to allow her quiet voice to exert a calming influence. Then again, perhaps some follow-up statement was expected, once a name was uttered, and so she tried one that had given Jane something of value before. "I have your back."

Angela watched the exchange above the table, confusion showing on her face. "Jane, sweetie, what's going on?"

"Right, I think I'm just going to say this." The detective took in a deep breath before pressing forward. "Ma, Maura and I are dating." She waited, sitting perfectly still, not daring to even breathe deeply lest she make too sudden a move.

Her mother sat in silence for an elongated moment, face taut, eyes hardening. When she finally spoke, it was quiet and full of forced restraint "I see. How long has this been going on?"

"Not long. It's a new thing." Jane replied with a quiet reserve, as if she knew what was coming and was resigned to her fate.

"How many people know?" Angela looked between the two younger women.

"Korsak, Frost, Frankie, and Maura's parents so far. But, Frost and Frankie only know because of Korsak, and Korsak only knows because he called my phone last night and Maura answered it. Ma, you know that Korsak's a big gossip. I just wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else."

"What am I supposed to tell your father?" Anger was beginning to play across Angela's features.

"Nothing, Ma. I'll tell him myself." Jane's body stiffened, her hands flexing where they rested on the table.

"Okay, fine, but what about everybody else?"

"What about them? I'll cross those bridges when I get to them." She shook her head. "No, _Maura_ and I will cross those bridges when _we_ get to them." She looked over to the woman beside her, asking for nonverbal confirmation, and Maura slid her left hand over to take Jane's right, palm to palm.

Angela could not miss that signal. Jane was allowing this woman to touch her hands? Her palms? Her _scars,_ yet? "So, what you're telling me is that you two are in some sort of… what? A relationship?" Her face fell into a scowl. "Frank said he thought this might happen, but I just thought he was just trying to irritate me. But, no, he was right. I just don't understand, Jane." Angela's voice was starting to rise with her obvious irritation. "What about settling down? What about getting married? What about _children_?"

"What about them, Ma? I can still do all those things. What does it matter to you who I do those things with?" Jane was quickly falling into defensive mode. "Are you telling me you're not okay with this? Is that what I'm hearing here?"

"I… I don't know, Jane. I just don't know what to think. I mean, you've always been a tomboy, but this? I just never thought _my_ daughter would be… I just don't know." Angela threw a fierce look at Maura. "What did you do to her?"

She thought she would be much more nervous, much more afraid. Strangely, she wasn't. A lifetime of social ostracism, cruel nicknames, and whispers about the Queen of the Dead had inured her to the sting of disapproval from anyone but Jane. Part of her mind remained a dispassionate, clinical observer, cataloguing Angela's responses, which her research suggested were classical, right out of the textbook. Denial had probably happened sometime in the past, and bargaining – the mention of all the things she thought Jane couldn't have, that she wanted, such as marriage and children – had come a bit early, but still, textbook. What Maura could observe was the next stage, anger. She hoped that it wouldn't last, but more than that, she hoped that Angela's anger _would_ last – just long enough to crowd out the stage of depression, which was so often hurtful to families.

All of that flashed through her mind in an eyeblink, with enough time left in her pre-speech inhalation to remind her that her usual response, smiling, was probably not appropriate. Schooling her features to pleasant seriousness, Maura selected her least inflammatory language to reply. "I loved her."

"_Loved_ her?" Angela's eyes grew large, "You _loved_ her? What about all the men who've loved her? Jane," her eyes whipped back to her daughter, "What makes _her_ so different from all the men that you could have been with? Why _her_? Explain that to me."

Quietly, almost dispassionately, Jane responded, "Because I loved her, too." The response took her by surprise, and it showed on her face. The detective had expected that her own reactions to her mother would be just as heated as her mother's reactions to her were. Instead, she found a reserve of calm she was unaware she had. "I feel something for Maura that I never have with anyone else, Ma."

"What? What is it? Some kind of phase you're going through? Curiosity? Or, are you just doing this to hurt me?" Angela's voice continued to rise. Some of the restaurant patrons had turned their heads, many were openly staring. Maura had to exercise a great deal of self-control to avoid glancing around to see the evidence of the murmurs she was hearing. This was about to be her life as a lesbian. _Lesbian? When did that happen? Oh. When I decided I never wanted anyone again but Jane._

"It's not about you." It was a quiet statement, but one filled with passion. "It's about _me_, for a change. You can't guilt me out of being with Maura. I fought too hard with myself to get here to walk away because you're uncomfortable with my life. You've never really approved of anything I've done. I don't why I thought this would be different."

"I can't believe you'd say that, Jane. You know I'm proud of you." Angela looked hurt now, without lessening her anger in the least.

"You want me to quit my job, get married, and run around barefoot and pregnant the kitchen. I really don't think that shows a lot of support for how I actually live my life." Despite the words, Jane remained calm. However, her hands continued to clench and unclench, the only sign of her growing frustration.

"Jane," Maura demurred, voice soft, "stand down for just a moment. May I?" She waited for permission before continuing, speaking mostly to Jane at first. She gave herself just a moment's pause, stealing back Jane's scarred, beautiful hand to add healing touch to her words. "Try to remember that you've had weeks, _months_, to grapple with what you've been learning about yourself. It was so hard for you that you couldn't even talk to me directly about it, even when you knew I'd never judge you negatively or try to make you be different. Before you knew I'd have any stake in the outcome of your struggle. For your mother, this is brand new. She's going to need some time. She's scared right now because she loves you so much, and she's confused about how this could be a part of you that she's never seen. It's also upsetting to know how many people are going to try to make you feel bad about yourself, or try to hurt you, because of this. That must be terrifying for a mother. But deep down, she also knows that you're the strong woman she reared you to be, and Jane, she will eventually realize how much more beautiful you are when you're allowed to express what's really inside of you."

Kissing Jane's fingers, she then turned towards Angela and said with gentle compassion, "Mrs. Rizzoli, this is a surprise for you, and surprises of such a profound nature are upsetting, no matter what they are. This new information changes what you know about Jane. But it doesn't change the fact that Jane is the same baby you carried, the same little girl with scraped knees that you tended when she was sick, the same girl to whom you gave all your love. She's brave, loyal, intelligent, generous, and a good man in a storm."

Continuing past the beginnings of a would-be protest, Maura concluded, "Above all, she's honest. That's why she came here today. She wanted to be honest with you about something that's been a part of her all along, that she only recently came to acknowledge. She wanted to show you all of who she is, because she trusts in your love for her and wants you to know who she really is, so that you can love all of her and not only part of her. This is Jane's way of honoring you."

Angela listened, or at least, sat still while fuming. No one said anything for a minute or two, and then Angela got up and left, sullen and dark.

"Well, that went well." Jane sighed, "At least she didn't burn the place down while she was causing the scene." She stood up, offering her hand to the doctor. "Come on, let's go to Jake's down the street. I think we've done enough damage here, and I could really use a burger and beer." She helped Maura up.

Maura was a little disquieted, but not as upset as either Angela or Jane. "Actually, it did go well. Whether she wanted to listen or not, your mother heard me. More importantly, she heard you tell the truth without flinching. Later, when she's calmer, she'll remember how confident you were, and know that the only nervousness you felt was because you wanted so much for _her_ to be happy for you. She'll adjust. You did."

As they walked outside, Jane leaned in to whisper gently into the medical examiner's ear, "So, you love me, huh?"

Even as she leaned into that tantalizing voice and enjoyed the shiver generated by the warm breath on her ear and neck, Maura chuckled. "Don't let it go to your head. I love Bass and Jo, too."


	13. Chapter 13

"So, I rate lower on your scale than your turtle and my dog? Wow, maybe I _should_ just go date Agent Dean." Jane gave the doctor a playful nudge to the ribs. "I see how it is."

Maura stopped walking and whirled on Jane, looking affronted. "No! I didn't say you were lower on my list, I said I loved the animals too. You're the _top_ of my list. You can't date Gabriel! Not after all this time, when I've finally gotten to tell you how I feel, and you said we were together now, and you even took your mother to lunch, and you told people we work with, and I cleared out closet space for you, and... Why are you laughing?"

"Maura, honey, you're the only person I know who would justify making room in your closet as the best way to show how committed you are in a relationship." The brunette pulled the still panicking woman to her, not bothering to look nor caring who was watching them as they stood on the sidewalk. "Good thing Bass and Joe don't own clothes, isn't it?" She chuckled as she closed in to place a kiss on Maura's lips and stop the protests before they came. "I'm teasing you, hon. You're at the top of my list, too."

Maura let herself be kissed, then buried her face in Jane's collarbone for a moment before mumbling, "Okay, then," in tones that approached petulance. Her fingers gripped the taller woman's lapels to hold her close just a little while longer while she calmed herself. As they gradually loosened, she stood on tiptoe to claim another kiss, needing the reassurance of touch.

Before the two women could even pull apart, a car drove past and someone inside yelled, "Fuckin' dykes!"

If ever Jane had desired a distraction from a teasing gone south, she couldn't have asked for a better one. A sudden change came over Maura, and even before Jane could get heated up about it, the violence shone in her hazel eyes. She'd been reared to respond with class to everything, and would have laughed if she'd been alone (though, if she'd been alone, how would they have known?). But she was with Jane, who'd heard it all her life already, and instantly she went to a place that she'd never known she had. Without even a pause for thought, Maura Isles fixed her indignation on the passenger leaning out the window and yelled right back, "_EVERY CHANCE I GET_, you bigoted, prepubescent cretin! My woman is more man than you'll ever be, and more woman than you'll ever get!"

Jane's face hovered between smugness, surprise, amusement, and adoration for the woman now turned and yelling in her arms. The pride she felt at that very moment was evident in her posture as much as in her face. In another circumstance, the taller woman may have gotten angry, gotten defensive, or gotten violent. Whatever the emotional response, she would have walked away, full of shame and hatred. But, she found, much to her personal surprise, that the only thing she felt was irritated the moment had been cut short by the idiot hanging out of the window of the black Corvette. She was more off put by his fake orange tan and even faker bling than his bigotry. The feeling was a welcomed change from how she normally felt when these things happened to her.

With a smirk on her face, the detective leaned forward to whisper in Maura's ear. "I think I like this side of you. Why don't we flip that guy off, skip lunch, and go take some personal time at my apartment?"

Maura huffed, nearly out of breath from the shouting, and from the righteous fury that had made the shouting seem like such a good idea. Astonishment ghosted across her features. "Did I just… Oh, dear, I don't know what's gotten into me," she said, pressing a hand to her heart, aghast. Then horror turned to humor, and she started to laugh. "Oh, my, Jane. I don't have the faintest idea what to call this sensation, this emotion."

"I could take a guess, but I know how you feel about that stuff." Jane turned the doctor, kissing her again, before stepping back and offering her arm. "But, if you were asking me to _guess_, I'd say you feel protective of me because you like me almost as much as Bass and Joe." Her face broke into a gentle smile. "But, that'd just be guess. So, my place or burgers?"

Kissing didn't slow down Maura's breathing in the least, but at least she seemed calmer, now that the teasing and the drive-by insults had ceased and she'd given vent to some of her emotion. "Wow. Um... I think we should eat." Off of Jane's mischievous grin, she clarified, "_Burgers_. I don't know about you, but I suddenly crave protein. Then we should go back to work and try to get a lot done, and maybe even finish early, because I'd like to spend tonight with you, and I'd like tonight to start as soon as possible."

* * *

Back at the station, Maura dropped Jane off at her desk, glancing around before tilting her face up towards the detective and murmuring, "I really want to kiss you, but I don't want you to get called names more than you already do. Do you want to keep this quiet? I think Barry, Vince, and Frankie are the only ones who were paying attention earlier, so we could still keep it just to... um, family?"

Jane chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about everything that had recently happened, the implications of being involved with Maura romantically, and how nosy cops tended to be. "They'll find out eventually." She sighed. "Nothing's ever easy, is it?" With a hesitation in her movements, the detective bent down, whispering just before placing a chaste kiss on the doctor's lips, "Good thing I like a challenge."

Between the kiss Jane gave to her and the one she gave back, Maura chuckled. "That almost makes me sorry I was so easy. Almost."

A lone wolf whistle sounded from somewhere near the interview rooms, along with a few mentions of, "Told you." "About time." "Pay up." Strangely, neither Frost nor Korsak exchanged any funds at all, having been unwilling to say a word to anyone concerning the special friendship they'd watched from its infancy until now.

"Rizzoli! Frost! Korsak!" Cavanaugh's voice barked out behind Maura, and suddenly the work day recommenced with a case. There would be no paperwork filed today, just bodies, autopsies, suspects.

"I'm not complaining about how easy you can be." Jane winked before grabbing her blazer from the back of her chair. "See you in a few." With her smiling fading quickly, the detective headed toward the lieutenant's office.


	14. Chapter 14

"Man," Jane grumbled as she stood up from her inspection of the body on the ground. "Why do they always call me when I'm working?" She quickly pulled off a glove and plucked her phone from her belt. "Rizzoli." Her face flushed and she took a few steps away from the crime scene.

"Hi, Pop." She swallowed hard. "Well, yeah, actually, I'm working right now. Just got to the scene about 10 minutes ago." She stood completely still, listening intently. "I'm sorry about that. Ma was pretty angry when she left, and I…" she flinched. "She didn't tell you what we talked about? Oh. Yeah, we should probably talk about it, but now's not a good time. Can I call you tonight when things slow down a little?"

The gloved hand holding the other glove began to twitch, causing the unoccupied glove to flick wildly. "Okay, Pop, I _promise_ to call you. Yeah, sure. Love you, too, bye." She replaced the phone, and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "The day just keeps getting better," she grumbled as she turned to look for the trash bag and a new glove. A few feet away, Barry Frost manfully restrained his gag reflex.

Crouched over the body, the medical examiner's own gloved hand probed at the body, noting the knot used to tie the rope, the torn clothing, the reddish-brown staining all down the body. "Flip him," she instructed the uniformed officer on the scene as she wordlessly used her free hand to supply Jane with another glove, then pointed out similar tearing and staining on the other side. Korsak, hovering near to hand, suggested that the body looked like it had been drug behind a car by his neck. "Dragged, not drug, and I can't say that with certainty. I won't be able to determine cause of death or the extent of injuries until I've completed my autopsy. Fortunately, it looks like we have some traffic cameras," she pointed them out, "which may be able to give us an accurate time of death. If not, perhaps time of disposal."

Standing, Maura turned towards Jane to ask, "Do you need to talk to your father alone later, or would you prefer me to be there?"

"Strength in numbers, Maura." Jane popped the new glove back into place. "You know, this guy looks familiar." She turned around, looking for her partner. "Hey, Frost, when you're done, come here." She rolled her eyes, A few moments passed before Frost could pull himself together enough to approach the body.

"Yeah? I was just looking for…"

"Whatever." The brunette waved off his excuse with a vague hand gestures. "Look, can you look up local political figures that have been MIA for the past couple of days? This guy looks really familiar, and I'm thinking I've seen him somewhere before." Frost nodded and made a motion to turn away. "Hey, you know," Jane tapped a gloved forefinger against her chin as she thought, "Try the local gay community first."

"Yeah, sure, okay. I'll be right back." Frost headed toward the cruiser.

* * *

Disgust suffused Barry Frost's face as Jane cuffed the killer, then let their on-tap uniformed officer drive him downtown for booking the killer of Boston's first open transvestite candidate for city council. "Do you believe that guy? 'If he likes drag so much, let's see how he likes being dragged?' This is the year two-thousand-freakin'-eleven, and not only do I not have a hovercar or personal jetpack, but people are still killin' each other over the stupidest crap! People in this city are beaten, raped, murdered, starve, freeze to death every winter, deal drugs to our schoolkids, but this freak has a problem with somebody's damn _fashion sense?_ PSSSHH." He pounded his fist on the side of a building.

Korsak kept giving Jane uneasy glances during Frost's rant, uncertain of what to say. This hadn't been their first case involving the LGBT community, but it was the first since Jane had confirmed what every perp or misogynist had accused her of being, but which few real friends had realized was actually true. "Yeah," he finally echoed, deciding to let Frost be the one to speak his mind for him. "Uh, hey, Rizzoli. Janie. You okay?" he asked. Gonna call the Doc?" The autopsy was probably still in progress, given that it usually took anywhere from six to ten hours, and they'd caught the trio of gay bashers-turned-killers with their metaphoric pants down – actual video footage of themselves perpetrating their own crime, and crowing about it the whole time – within the first four hours of the hunt. "She could prob'ly use the heads-up."

"Yeah, I'll give her a call here in a few," Jane blew off Korsak's obvious concern. "Hey, Frost, you need to calm down. People kill people over stupid shit all the time. I once caught a perp who took out a couple in their fifties because he wanted to move into their apartment and their lease wasn't up yet. You can't let it get to you. If you do, you won't be able to do this job. Got it?" Her gaze pinned the younger detective, forcing an answer from him.

"Yeah, you're right, it's just that…"

"No, it's nothing. It's another senseless death caused by a group of idiots who don't know their ass from a hold in the ground. They are monsters, and we catch 'em. That's why we're here, to keep the monsters from winning. But, if you let this crap get to you like this, you lose."

"Okay, " Frost was calming. Nodding mostly to himself, he mumbled, "I think I'm going to go get a cup of coffee. I'll meet you back at the station." He shoved off the wall.

"Yeah, we'll see you there," Jane turned to Korsak, "Just because I'm dating Maura," she began in a lowered voice, "doesn't mean I'm suddenly super sensitive about this stuff, Korsak. _Every_ murder pisses me off. It's what keeps me goin', so stop trying to be sensitive. I don't need it, okay?"

Guilt suffused Korsak's florid face as he replied. "Yeah, but I know where he's comin' from. These guys today, they weren't just killin' human beings, which is bad enough. Jesus, Rizzoli. Look, every murder is a bad murder, but some of 'em hit closer to home. You know how you feel when we bag a cop killer, because they got one of our own? Well, this is one o'_your_ own, and you can't tell me this ain't affectin' you. It's affectin' me, and I ain't even a part of any o'that, except that you're my…"

His face had gotten redder, and as he finally allowed himself to get worked up like he'd wanted to do all day, the big man rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. "You're like Frost's sister to him. To me, you're like my own kid, Janie. I don't want to find you in an alley lookin' like that poor mug we found today." Korsak's voice was tight, stilted.

"Not gonna happen," Jane crossed her arm definitely, "I'm too awesome to be taken down by someone stupid enough to think they can take me." She gave a smug smile before letting her face fall back into serious mode. "Look, I hate it, okay? I hated it before Maura, and I hate it just as much now, but the only thing we can do is take them out so they don't do it again. I'm okay, Korsak. I'm not goin' anywhere," she chuckled lightly, "Unless Maura tells me to."

Korsak got himself together with the help of a pocket handkerchief that was so old, it was grey even when fresh from the wash. "Yeah. Yeah, Rizzoli, I get it. You're a badass, and so's your girl. Just make sure you both stay that way, okay? Right. Let's get back to the station. I got some anger management issues I think I wanna work out on that basher asshole."


	15. Chapter 15

"Hey, Pop," Jane stepped aside to let Frank, Sr. into her apartment. "Sorry it's so late. Closing up the case took a little longer than we thought, and Maura had to finish up a couple of things." She made an apologetic face as she motioned for her father to join the doctor in the kitchen. "You want something to drink?"

"Beer'd be good. Your mother's been in a rampage since lunch. You want to tell me what's going on? Maura, always good to see you." He gave her a welcoming smile as he took a seat at the small table.

Maura quickly removed two beer bottles from the refrigerator, then on second reflection a third, and poured them into chilled steins she'd been keeping in the freezer for just such an occasion. "Good evening, Mr. Rizzoli," she greeted the man with a fond, though tense, smile. Though he had always seemed very approachable, that was when he was just her friend's father. Now he was her lover's father, and she wasn't sure what to do with that. Boyfriends had actually been introduced to her often by their mothers or mutual acquaintances, so she'd never had to wonder if they would approve of her; girlfriends, what few there had been, had generally been estranged from their families. Actually knowing Jane's father already, plus the way her mother had reacted to their news at lunch, put the doctor on edge.

J ane watched Maura pour the beers. She was pleased to know that Maura was so comfortable in her apartment and relieved to see that Maura was, once again, willing to be her moral backup. Taking a stein from the honey-blonde, Jane sat down. "Pop, not sure how to tell you this, but," she took a deep breath, as she watched Maura sit down next to her.

"This is good beer, Jane. Where it'd come from?" Her father smiled at Maura again.

"Uh," Frank had thrown his daughter off kilter. She was gearing up to tell him everything, and he was asking her about beer by way of interruption. "Maura… she picked it up at some microbrewery around here." She gave the other woman a side glance filled with apprehension and caution. Not one to step down, Jane tried again. "Look, Pop, I'm sorry I sent Ma back home mad, but I didn't think she'd react like that, either. It's just that… Korsak knows, and I figured, considering the kind of gossip he is…"

"I like the stein's too. Maura, did you find them? They don't look like Jane's taste." He grinned over the rim of the stein. Maura nodded and opened her mouth to reply with the story of how she'd searched them out, found them, gotten them for a steal – knowing that Frank would appreciate frugality – when Jane broke into her not-yet-formed speech.

"Hey!" Jane's frustration had won out over her attempts to be gentle. "Pop, God, first of all, I don't like the implication that I can't buy nice looking things… even if Maura did buy those. Second of all, I'm trying to tell you that Maura and I are dating." She sighed letting a low growl escape at the end.

"Yeah, I know, your mother finally broke down and told me this afternoon." He took another sip of beer. "She also told me that she told _you_ I told _her_ that you two would probably settle down together." He shrugged. "I think she's just ticked off because I was right, for a change." He looked down into his mug. "I can't say I understand this," he motioned between the two women, using his stein to do so. "But, I can't say I didn't see it coming. Guess that's a little weird to say, but it's true."

Maura's brows drew together as she glanced up at Jane for some sort of hint as to how to go forward, but didn't wait for the hint to come, after all. "Mr. Rizzoli, I'm glad that this didn't feel like as big a shock to you as it did to Mrs. Rizzoli. Even so, I do wish I'd done this earlier. Been able to do it earlier." Apparently she'd had some time to work up to something herself while Jane was fretting earlier, and she sat a little taller on her kitchen barstool as she proceeded.

"I need to say this, because I know it's traditional, and I can respect traditions even if they aren't my own. Actually, I don't know if this is my own tradition. Someone may have done this for me once, but I wouldn't know. I just…" She broke off, fidgeted, running a finger over the icy handle of her stein for a moment, then stood up and cleared her throat nervously, beer still held in both hands. She hadn't discussed the matter with Jane. Would Jane be offended? Upset? Would she laugh? "I think Jane is a beautiful person, smart, strong, and I am very fond of her. And while she is an adult, as am I, and therefore I don't think it's appropriate to ask for your _permission_ to date your daughter, I would very much appreciate your blessing."

Jane's jaw dropped. Eyes wide, she looked from the woman standing to her seated father.

"That's more thoughtful than any of the boys Jane's brought home, Maura." Frank set his stein down. "But, I'm not sure I can do that. First of all, Angela would have a fit if she thought I went behind her back and said yes to something she can't even deal with yet. Second of all, I don't really know you as my daughter's girlfriend. I know you as her coworker and as her friend, and I've always told Janie that, if she brought someone home, I'd have to see how they treated her before I gave my approval. Know what I mean?"

Maura nodded understanding. "Thank you for that, Mr. Rizzoli. I'm content to wait for your blessing until Mrs. Rizzoli has had time to adjust to her new knowledge."

Her gave his daughter a thoughtful look. "Jane, your mother, she'll eventually be okay, and then I can…" he gave a shrug, letting her fill in the blanks.

"Yeah… no… I mean, I understand, Pop," she was still staring at Maura, shock playing on her features. "I mean," she turned back to her father, "You're not going to disown me or anything?"

"Nah, you're a good kid. Besides, what father _doesn't_ want their daughter to date a doctor?" He winked before taking another sip of beer.

"_You mean a dead people doctor,"_ Angela called from the front door.


	16. Chapter 16

Maura responded by fetching a fourth beer and chilled stein and poured the one into the other, making sure to get a nice, foamy head on it, just as her research had indicated was proper. "That's true," she said with equanimity. "I see people who are beyond medical expertise to give them peace or take away their pain. All I can really do for the majority of my patients is find answers for their families. However," continued Maura as she handed over the beer, "every medical examiner in Boston is required to actively practice medicine on the living as well. I satisfy the requirement by treating minor injuries and illnesses for my fellow workers in the precinct, and also by volunteering at a battered women's shelter twice a month."

"It's handy having her around whenever I pop something out of socket." Jane commented as she watched her mother pull up a chair by her father.

"I thought you were going to Rosa's tonight?" Frank gave his wife an accusatory glance. "How did you even know I'd be here? Did you get Frankie to put out an alert for my truck again?"

Angela looked at Maura, took the beer, but neither drank nor spoke to her. She wasn't quite up to that just yet. "Yeah, well, I thought you were goin' bowling," was her snappy rejoinder. "I came here to talk to Jane, and look what I find, a family conference without me." Her scratchy voice, so like Jane's, actually brought a smile to Maura's face; she could be so fond of Angela, so easily. So many of the things she liked about Jane came directly from these two people: her loyalty, her commitment to justice, her respect for others. Maura caught herself turning away, sniffling discreetly as she identified the feeling coursing through herself: she loved them. They loved Jane, and Jane was her window into them, and she loved them because she loved Jane and they had helped make Jane who she was, the woman that Maura loved.

Angela noticed the movement and the sniffling. "What's wrong?" she asked with grudging concern. "You gettin' sick? You better not give my Janie a cold."

Maura shook her head. "I'm sorry. My amygdala has a stronger than usual connection with my lacrimal glands, and it's affecting me right now. I apologize. It's just… Mrs. Rizzoli, it's just so good to know that you care so much about Jane, that you would just come over any time you think something is wrong."

"Maura can get a little emotional." Jane offered as way of translating. "Ma, don't be like this. Come on, you _know_ Maura, and you know me. Why do you have act like I've shot a puppy or destroyed the family honor? Maura's family name is a thousand times better than ours, no offense, Pop."

"None taken," Frank went back to sipping his beer.

"Why can't you just be happy that I found someone, finally?" Jane never broke eye contact with her mother. Instead, she simply waited with the unusual calm she had found she had when she'd spoken with her mother earlier in the day.

"The church," Angela began, but Frank cut her off.

"Bull, Angela. This isn't about the church. This is about your mothers, sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, and the neighbors." Frank had just about finished his beer, which stayed cold all the way down thanks to the chilled stein, and was feeling like he might be able to spare a thought for something besides that rich, hoppy foam.

"I love ya, Ange, but you gotta start worryin' more about whether the kids are happy. You want Janie to have somebody to come home to, right? Somebody smart, who can take care of her, who's gonna treat her right. Give her children. See that she eats good. Doesn't mind you bargin' into their life and bein' nosy about everything. Somebody that loves her enough to put up with you and me and Frankie and Tommy." He swirled his beer around, admiring the way the bubbles floated up in a perfect spiral until they broke the surface and hung there amid the creamy suds. He really had to find out where Maura got this stuff. Way better than what you could get out of a can. Frank loved his wife with all his heart; she just had to open her eyes to what was already there. "You said you wanted her to have somebody she could look at the way she looks at Maura. Somebody that'd look at her like the Doc looked at her. Din't'cha? Din't'cha just say last week, it was a shame she couldn't find a man like Maura? Well, she found him, only it ain't a man, and it ain't _like_ Maura. It's the real deal."

Angela huffed. "It's good she's got a friend, but a man would be able to protect her. A man wouldn't put a target on her back – you think I don't read the papers and see what happens to… _gay people_ when people don't like the way they live?"

Throughout, Maura listened to Jane's parents with growing disturbance. It sounded for a while as though things might be going better, then that they might be going a good deal worse. Angela's face had looked almost receptive for a moment, even though she hadn't actually looked at Maura, and not much at Jane either. She preferred to look down into her beer, or at Frank as they argued, as if the two women weren't even there.

Eventually, Maura got bold. She set down her beer and gave Jane's hand a squeeze as she stood, then walked around the counter and gently captured one of Angela's wildly gesticulating hands within hers. "You're right," she said to the surprised mother, "it won't be as easy for us as it would be if one of us were male. Strangers could decide not to serve us in restaurants, not to speak to us respectfully. Someone might try to hurt one of us because they don't like the fact that we love each other."

She smiled and brought out the trump card she'd been saving, the story Jane had told her late one night, just a few weeks into their deepening friendship, when Hoyt was sending threatening letters and neither of them had wanted to burden themselves with thoughts of him. "Tell me, how did your great-great-grandfather handle it when he first came to America alone, not knowing a word of English, not even realizing that there were neighborhoods where it wasn't safe to stand while Italian? Do you suppose his mother wanted him to return to Italy? What do you think he said to her, to show her that his new life was here? How do you think she responded when he said he wanted to seek his fortunes farther than at home, where small experience grows?*"

Angela stared at her hand, trying to decide if she wanted to yank it away from Maura or wait until it was released. "It's not the same thing, and you know it." She gave her husband a look that clearly asked for him to back her up.

"Good analogy, though," Frank countered.

"Maura, you should probably let go of Ma's hand before she rips your arm off and uses it to beat us with," Jane grumbled, not really looking anyone in the eye but her father, who have her a look of amusement.

Maura let go. "I apologize, Mrs. Rizzoli. I didn't want you to knock over the utensil canister." It was true, even though that hadn't been her _primary_ goal. "I also don't want you to think that I need you to accept us immediately. That's something that you'll have to work out on your own, you and Mr. Rizzoli. I respect whatever decision you make concerning my relationship with Jane."

"Oh, right," Angela fired back as her hand was freed, "you're just gonna stop hangin' around Jane because I say you can't? Okay, then, stop hangin' around Jane."

* * *

**_* Hortensio: …And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale_**

**_blows you to Padua here from old Verona?_**

**_Petruchio: Such wind as scatters young men through the world_**

**_To seek their fortunes farther than at home, where small experience grows._**

**- W. Shakespeare, ****_The Taming of the Shrew_**


	17. Chapter 17

The caramel brown head shook as Maura explained, not without compassion, "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. There is only one thing that could ever keep me away from her, and that is her own wishes. Until and unless Jane asks me to leave her, I will be with her. What I _meant_ to indicate was that I respect your decision to accept or not accept our relationship. As previously discussed with your husband, Jane and I are both adults. While I would prefer to have your blessing and acceptance, I do not require your permission to continue to love Jane, nor anyone's permission other than Jane's to continue to see her."

"She's feisty," Frank said with a growing smile as he downed the last swig of beer and eyed Maura's untouched stein. She nodded discreetly, and he picked it up. "Classy, but feisty. A real firecracker. Come on, babe. Look, we don't even know Maura as Jane's girlfriend –"

"_Girlfriend?"_ Angela demanded, balking this time at the terminology. "You're gonna call her a girlfriend now, like this is normal? Frank!"

Frank shook his head, but he was still grinning, now more openly, in Jane's direction. Or, rather, in the direction of both women.

Maura tilted her head to one side. "I prefer lover," she remarked quietly, "since it means someone who loves. 'Girlfriend' sounds like someone I'd take shoe shopping with me, and I'd never take Jane shopping. She'd hate it."

Not good enough for Angela, the upgrade from girlfriend to lover. _"Lover?"_ shrieked the older woman. "You better not be doing any _loving_ of my daughter! You better just be holding her hand – as if she'd even let you! She doesn't even hold her own mother's hands anymore!"

"Held more than that with Maura last night," Jane quipped over her stein, content to see where things were going with her mother and her… lover. Ordinarily, she would in the middle of the argument, but she simply felt no need. She trusted Maura. As such, she trusted Maura to take care of this, which was an odd feeling. It was as if Jane was handing the car keys over. The amount of faith she had in the small medical examiner surprised her. She cocked an eyebrow as she slowly sipped her beer. "Pop, I'm going to grab another beer. Want one?"

"Nah, I'm good," he pointed the stein he'd taken from Maura's place at the table. He hadn't missed the comment, and his grin grew personal. His Janie had felt the need to lie about how far she'd gone with every single boyfriend she'd had since eighth grade, even when he'd been watching the car right outside the living room window and knew damned well they hadn't just said good night with a handshake. Now she was telling the truth. Maura was good for Jane, he decided. Not because he wanted to know, good God, he wanted never to know what his daughter got up to; but because somehow she'd gotten Jane to own up to just how deep she was into this, no apologies, no excuses. That blessing she'd asked for, he might be giving that pretty soon.

Maura arched a brow delicately, eyes suddenly filled with questions, as she turned towards Jane. "Is that true, Jane?"

"Yes," Angela sniffed, hurt. "Ever since that awful man did what he did to her, she can't stand for anybody to touch them at all, not even me. Her own mother. It's like she doesn't trust me anymore, just because I don't have a gun to protect her with."

Amid all the signs she'd seen of Jane's affection and then attraction, that was the one she'd missed. All best friends held hands; sometimes even just plain friends. Of course Jane held her hands. All the time. In fact, it was usually at Jane's prompting. The one sign she'd missed, and suddenly, Maura realized it was the only important one. "I never even realized," she said as her eyes filled once more.

But there was a time and place for that, and it wasn't amid parents. The physician cleared her throat and turned back to the matter at hand. "To answer your question, yes, we hold hands. If you're asking for more detail than that, you may of course have it. I'll tell you everything you want to know… if you really do want to know." One delicate brow arched, and suddenly there it was: Angela Rizzoli was being outgunned. Maura's facial expression, vocal tonality, and posture announced her forthrightness, brilliant and rigid as the torch carried by the Statue of Liberty. She was quite willing to give Angela every little detail, clinically precise, of her own daughter's sex life. _I distinctly heard a request for information,_ Maura thought to herself, _and I hereby call your bluff._

"Maura doesn't lie, Ma. If you don't want the details of last night, I would be very careful about what I asked her next." Jane sat back down with a beer bottle in one hand and bowl of nuts she kept in the fridge in the other. She sat the nuts down in the middle of the table close enough for her father to reach before pouring her beer. "Nuts, Pop?"

"Most of the time," Frank deadpanned, picking up a handful of the proffered snack.

Angela's mouth hung open for a moment, and then she decided to test it out. No one in the world simply didn't lie, except the Pope and maybe a couple of really good bishops. "Fine. When did you become my daughter's _lover_?"


	18. Chapter 18

"I first recognized that I loved Jane when she came to my house one night, frightened out of her wits," Maura replied promptly, answering the question as it was asked rather than as it was meant. "When I realized that I was the person Jane sought out when she'd never been so scared in all her life, I knew I wanted to always be that person."

Angela tried again. "When did you first become attracted to my daughter?" Maybe if she kept harping on the fact that Jane was her daughter, Maura would realize that this was meant to be intimidating.

No such luck. "The first time I laid eyes on her," recalled the doctor with a smile. "At least, that was when I felt attracted to her appearance. Once I got to know her, there was a great deal more to be attracted to. Jane is very easy to like."

"Fine," Angela said, and then pulled out the heavy artillery. "When did you first sleep with my daughter?"

"_Angela!"_ Frank roared, but subsided almost instantly as Angela refused to be cowed or even distracted, and moreover, as Maura appeared not even to notice.

"The same night that she first came to stay with me," came the answer as Maura misunderstood the intent of the question yet again. "She was so jumpy, and she couldn't fall asleep on her own, so I stayed with her in the guest room."

"Maura," Jane sighed, growing tired of the unintentional run around. "Ma is asking you when we first had sex, not when we first slept together in the same room or same bed or whatever. Ma, you have to say _exactly_ what you mean. Maura's pretty precise about these things. Pop, plug your ears."

And Maura told them all. "Last night," she began, "_finally,_ and may I say, it was well worth the wait, as frustrating as it was at times. Then again, sometimes the frustration was a big part of the enjoyment of our... relationship-building. I suspect, from the avidity of her responses, that she had been equally eager, which was a delight, because it's terrible to want someone more than they want you, isn't it? I'd been worried that I'd go too fast for you," and here Frank coughed; he hadn't expected Maura to be the fast one, "but you surprised me over and over. In good ways."

"You asked for it, Ange," Frank reminded his wife with a grin, having refused to cover his ears in the least. Her next question, though, did cause him to clear his throat and ask Jane quietly for directions to the washroom.

"But," Angela pleaded, finally coming down from anger and into the confusion that lay at the heart of all her maternal wrath, "what can you possibly _do_?" This time, Maura understood the question, as unsophisticated as it was. Angela wasn't asking for justification anymore. She was asking, _How in the world are you supposed to satisfy my daughter's sexual needs?_ That was a revelation to Maura, that Angela would actually concern herself with that. Not just a revelation, but a relief: it meant that she really was predominantly occupied with Jane's happiness.

"Do you truly want to know?" she asked, being utterly clear that she would answer as best she knew how. Angela nodded. Maura held out her hands, one to Angela and one to Jane, and nudged them both towards the couch for more comfortable seating. Angela stared as Jane took the hand with no hesitation at all, palm to palm, and followed. "Jane, if you'd rather not be here while we discuss this, I'll understand."

Jane settled on her usual end of the couch, sitting in her trademark slouch. "No, I don't think so. I've stuck around this conversation this long. I'm not leaving now. In fact, just pretend I'm not here. Far be it for me to keep Ma from leaning _everything_ about _my_ personal life." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she nodded for her mother to have a seat by her. Once Angela was seated, Jane swung her gaze back to the patiently waiting doctor, "Please… proceed," she said with a voice weighted down by sarcasm.

It took Maura a moment to know where to begin, but at last she decided. "There is so much that one can do. Stimulation can occur in so many ways. Too, women tend to have more erogenous zones than men do. It isn't all entirely about genital contact for us. Almost everywhere you can touch a woman, you can bring about a very pleasurable response, if your intent to do so is clear and if she is both able and willing to have that response. Think about it. If any man touched your hand or your shoulder, other than your husband, you probably wouldn't get much out of it. But when Mr. Rizzoli touches you, you feel it in an entirely different way, don't you?"

Angela nodded, busily processing all of this information. "Yeah, but what's that got to do with what you and Jane are doing in bed? Look, I don't want to get into it either, but I need to know she's not gonna be without _satisfaction_ for the rest of her life just because she's comfortable with her best friend."

"Try to imagine," Maura replied, taking pity on both Angela's need for information and her lack of desire to actually hear the details she'd requested, "what you would do with your husband, if for any reason he lost function in his male organ."

Angela uttered a rapid and fervent, "God forbid," but then sat to actually consider the idea. "I don't know. I guess there'd be more of the stuff that happens before that."

"Yes," Maura said with a smile, "a lot of it. We hold hands. We kiss. We hold one another. We touch. Foreplay is an extremely important part of any couple's sexual interactions, but with women, it's almost the entirety of what takes place. There's very little of what heterosexuals would consider analogous with intercourse, which is to say, penetrative contact. For two women, sex tends to be about togetherness, giving pleasure, allowing ourselves to be given pleasure, and about enjoying the full-body experience. Hands, lips, tongues, and teeth are the actors. They are the active, giving participants. The entire body of one's partner is the receiving participant. When the goal isn't orgasm, strangely, orgasm almost always occurs without effort." She chose not to directly mention Jane, but to take the concepts into the abstract form, so that Jane didn't have to sit and be bashful-angry, as she got sometimes when discussing sexuality, for some reason. "How would you feel about that?"

Angela didn't have to think much to come up with her first reaction. "I'd hate it if Frank got hurt like that, or sick, or somethin' where he couldn't… But I guess… it sounds really… tender." And then Angela Rizzoli actually blushed. _Blushed._

Maura patted Angela's hands. "Precisely."


	19. Chapter 19

"But what about those gadgets and stuff? They look like torture devices!" Angela protested, but the halfhearted, almost lazy tone made it clear that she was at least thinking, and not just reacting off the cuff like she'd been doing all day until now.

Maura glanced towards Jane before saying, "They're not torture devices. For those who enjoy them, they're simply an additional limb, a prosthetic device, such as you might use if your leg or arm needed to be amputated. Like any other tool, they simply extend what's possible. But I tend to prefer not to use those with a partner. I prefer to use what I have naturally," she held up two smooth, short-nailed, well-groomed hands, "because they have more to recommend them. They're flexible, agile, warm, and they have nerve endings so that I can tell exactly what I'm doing. I prefer Jane's hands to any prosthesis, as well."

Angela stared at Maura's hands, suddenly brought back to the fact that she was sitting in her daughter's living room, listening to her daughter's lover talking about using those very selfsame hands on her daughter's body. "Oh, Jesus," she groaned, "this just got weird."

"Did it?" Maura asked, turning towards Jane for confirmation.

"It got weird about 20 minutes ago," Jane grumbled. "Look, Maura is very good at… God, I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth." She groaned but pushed ahead. "Ma, you don't have to worry that I'm going to be," she started to blush. Feeling the heat rising to her face, the dark-haired brunette scowled, "unsatisfied, okay?" She raised her eyebrows to emphasize her point. "Not that it's any of your business. Jesus, Ma, do you ask Frankie about _his_ sex life? You know what? Don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Realizing she could contribute something that might help Jane over her awkwardness, Maura smiled brightly. "In many tribes, young people learn sexual techniques and theories directly from their elders. Some tribes teach through conversation, some through artwork such as drawings or carvings, and some through direct demonstration. Your mother is carrying on that tradition of education from mother to daughter. I think it's sweet. I'd have appreciated…"

Jane stood in a rush to avoid hearing any more, turning around to face both her mother seated on the sofa and the kitchen behind. "_Oh my God, Maura, stop._ And, of course, _you're_ standing there. How long have you been in there, Pop?"

Don't mind me," Frank held up his hands in a show of innocence, "I just got here. In fact, I'm just going to go walk my grandpup here." He pointed to Joe, who was trotting after him. "You girls seem to be talking about… girl stuff, so I'm going to take Joe for some Grandpop/grandpup bonding time." He pulled the leash from its place on the door. "We'll be back… later." He bent down, hooked the leash in place, and left with a mumbled warning to behave to his wife.

"Man, could my life get any weirder?" Jane gave a little stomp of her foot.

Maura's head tilted to the side as she watched Jane process all these changes that had suddenly occurred within her family dynamic. It looked difficult for a moment, but then, true to form, her lover rallied, boxed up the weirdness, and set it aside as if to prepare for the next challenge. Since she seemed to be dealing well, Maura turned back towards the elder Rizzoli female and suggested, "Now that you know I'll give you answers, I hope you're comfortable asking anything you feel you'd like to know. If something makes me uncomfortable, I'll say so, though I'll probably answer anyway."

Angela actually looked like she was thinking it over, though she didn't seem terribly reassured. "Okay… Okay." She stood, offering Maura a handshake that most would consider a bit too formal after hearing such intimate things, but perhaps she needed to reestablish distance. She'd liked Maura, but not known her all that well, and the doctor recognized her need for a hastily-erected boundary. "I'm not thrilled about this. I'm sorry, but I gotta think about it. We'll talk at gnocchi night."

Maura's eyes popped wide open. "You… you want me to come to gnocchi night?"

"Of course," Angela said, looking surprised that the invitation would be considered suspect. "Look, I didn't expect this and it's not somethin' I'm used to. I wasn't raised to think two women together was normal. Hey, at least I like you as a person, right? My ma didn't like my sister's husband for years, but she invited him to gnocchi night anyway. He was still family."

Jane ran a hand over her face in frustration. "Ma, we're not married. We _just_ started dating. Don't you think sucking Maura into this family this soon is just," she rolled her eyes, "cruel?"

Maura had that look on her face, the one that said she'd come up with logical reasons why they should, or shouldn't, or why in some cultures they would be considered married because they'd spent an entire night in seclusion together, or something even weirder than when she'd made that little hand gesture while discussing sexual technique with Jane's _mother_. Jane decided to ignore it. Her lover could talk about their sex life with her whole family before she'd let them discuss marriage after one date (and one night of worldview-changing sex, but that was beside the point). Narrowing her eyes at her mother, Jane lowered her voice as a thought occurred to her. "While we're at this, don't you _dare_ start asking me about marriage. After all of this," she made vague gestures in the air, "I think you owe me at least a two month reprieve from you nagging me to get married and settle down."

She gave a two-finger point to the older woman. "Don't say you're not going to start. I don't care how much of a fit you just threw, I know you, and you owe me at least a little relief here. And, for the love of God, Ma, can we pretend like you never had this conversation with Maura about how she and I have sex? I'd like to just pretend we're all asexual as far as family is concerned. Agreed?" In full badass mode, arms crossed, face shut down, eyes cold, Jane stood, staring down her mother waiting for her to agree.

Angela pouted, but agreed. "All right. But just so you know, this _lesbian_ thing doesn't get you out of giving me grandchildren. _What?_" Angela demanded as Jane started steaming in protest and Maura stifled laughter. "I didn't say marriage!"


	20. Chapter 20

"Who said anything about marriage?" Frank opened the door with Joe in tow. "What did I miss?" he asked as Maura shook her head rapidly in a failed attempt at winning his silence.

"Oh, you know, the usual." The younger Rizzoli crossed the room to stand beside Maura. "Ma's being nosy, insisting I give her grandchildren, and Maura is embarrassing me in a justified manner. So, how was your walk, Pop?"

"Not as exciting as your talk, thank God," he hung the leash up and kissed his wife on the cheek. "You going to be okay, Ang?"

"I don't know." She leaned against her husband. "None of this is how I thought it was going to be, and… I don't know. I told the girls we'd talk about it more at gnocchi night."

"Yeah?" Frank gave his daughter a look full of meaning, "Sounds like a plan to me. Maybe Maura'll bring that cake you like so much?" He looked over to the smaller woman, asking with his eyes for her to respond.

"I'd be delighted to be responsible for desserts. Perhaps that could be our regular contribution to the meal." Maura responded with alacrity and effulgence. "Any cake you like, and maybe some cannoli?" Yes, because that's just what the world needed: Jane's parents and brother watching her girlfriend eat cannoli. Perfect.

* * *

The next work day was tense and busy, as was the day after that. In fact, the rest of the week was a whirlwind of paperwork and court appearances. It didn't slow down until gnocchi night, which went swimmingly. Apparently Angela had spent all week at the library, learning all about "the gays," and regaled the family with information about lesbians, homophobia, the Stonewall riots, bisexuality, and other topics which she found fascinating and everyone else found either embarrassing or old hat.

Still, it was her way of coming to grips with something she had never thought she'd have to understand, and so they all let her rattle on. Frank actually looked interested now and again, and Maura at least enjoyed watching Angela process what she was discovering, so Frankie and Jane dealt with it. They tuned out over the food (except when Maura was eating cannoli, at which time Frankie and Jane both tended to pay attention and offer more, until Jane noticed that Frankie was doing it, and took the cannoli plate away), then went to watch the game while the parents and Maura discussed social theory.

* * *

Mid-morning Monday, Maura wound up in the homicide division bullpen with three folders in hand. Inter-office mail could have delivered the autopsy results from the previous week's work, but she'd come to enjoy coming upstairs, even when Jane wasn't actually there. Barry and Vince were really very nice men, and they clearly cared about the partner they were still learning to share. They also asked questions she found interesting and entertaining to discuss. She was responding to one just at the moment. "Actually, you probably wouldn't really enjoy a threesome," she was telling Barry as she handed him one of the three files in her hand. "It sounds interesting, I'll grant you, but I doubt it would be much fun in practice. Everyone assumes they'd be the one in the middle, and sure, they would be for a while, but it only makes logical sense that logistically, someone would always be feeling left out at all times. I don't think I'd enjoy it, either."

"And, I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"It wasn't an invitation, Jane," Maura protested, trotting up to greet her lover. "Barry was discussing the idea, not making a suggestion."

Jane walked over to Frost's desk where Maura was standing with the folders in her hand. "I'm guessing these are the test results for the Schumann case. So, I'll just take them, and go back over to my little corner where I can pretend no one has sex, or, if they do, they don't talk about it in public." Jane made to grab the folders from Maura's hand and make a hasty retreat to her desk.

Maura pouted, but surrendered the folders only after hanging on for an extra second or two. "Fine," she said, making the most of those seconds, "but I'm taking you out for a respectable lunch in two hours, so don't load up on pastries at the break table."

"You can take my freedom, but you can never take about my maple glazed!" Jane gave a defiant look to the doctor as she took a bite of the doughnut hat had been sitting on her desk. After swallowing, she stuck her tongue out. "You can't stop me." She moved to take another bite.

Instead, Maura put her hand right over the sticky pastry and pushed it away from Jane's open mouth, which she then also claimed. At least a full minute passed before she sat back, pastry smooshed between the two women's hands. "Let go of it right now, and I'll let you lick the frosting off my fingers in the elevator," she murmured…

…_almost_ quietly enough that Korsak didn't hear. He started grinning from ear to ear. "That's hot," he said over Barry, who was back at his desk and deciding aloud that he loved his job.

Maura stood up and deposited the sinful sweet into the garbage can, leaving her hand sticky with maple glaze. "Coming, Jane?"

Jane jumped up from her chair, nearly knocking it over. Giving a quick glance to the other two detectives, she pointed to Maura and said, "Do I even need to say it?" She didn't bother to wait for the response, quickly catching up with the medical examiner.

"Noooo," Barry stated definitively, serious as he could be. "All yours."

Best. Elevator. Ride. Ever.


End file.
